


A blessing to all Wolfdom

by Ashbright



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Backstory, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Mates, Other Pack(s), Pack Dynamics, Pack Family, Pining, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott is a Good Friend, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, The Hale Pack - Freeform, The Hales survive the fire, Werewolf Biology, Werewolf Culture, Werewolf Mates, Wet Dream, Wolf Derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-01 06:27:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 147,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2763080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashbright/pseuds/Ashbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has to find his mate as soon as possible, otherwise his life will really suck.  It's not that complicated:  He just has to fall in love!<br/>And he does, madly.  So, all is well, right?<br/>Except that with Stiles, nothing ever goes exactly as planned...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Late Bloomer

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is SERIOUSLY AU. You can dive right in the fic, but reading this first might help...
> 
> Some details about this universe:
> 
> The entire population in this AU shows some degree of “werewolfness” with the ability to shift distributed on a bell curve from 0: pure human, to 100: people who can shift to actual wolves. These two extremes are rare, about 1/400 of the population each. Overall, how much one can shift is pretty unimportant, kind of like eye color in our world.
> 
> Strength, Agility, Speed, Sensory abilities and Healing (SASSH) are independent of each other _and_ of the degree of shift one can achieve. Each is individually rated from 1 to 5, the total being a person's SASSH score. 
> 
> A lunisolar calendar (similar to the Jewish calendar) is used universally, and though people know their age in “Moons”, referring to the number of full moons they have known.
> 
> The 222nd full moon of a person’s life (including those fully human), is called their “Sorting” moon. It marks the beginning of adulthood. All at once, they become either alphas (lower case “a”) or betas, reach their full SASSH potential, find out their sexual identity and become aware or whether or not they have a mate (Rare even for alphas, extremely rare for betas).
> 
> The population of the planet is small, and arranged in packs, led by Alphas (Capitalized). Packs include alphas (lower case) who submit to their Alpha (capitalized) by accepting their ritual bite, and betas. Townships, like Beacon Hills, regroup small allied packs each with yard size territory abutting a large attached preserve shared by all, and under the protection of a very strong pack, like the Hales. 
> 
> The bite of an Alpha is ALWAYS lethal to humans, so if a human sorts as an alpha, he or she submit to their Alpha by accepting a touch on the neck.
> 
> Two purely human people will only have purely human offspring.
> 
> Two people who can transform fully into wolves will never have purely human children, though their children’s level of “wereness” may vary.
> 
> The Hale pack is unique because every one of its born members can shift to full wolves and anyone (not human) bit by their Alpha develop that ability. When someone marries into any pack, they receive a ritual bite from the pack’s Alpha as a show of submission and become full shifters like all the other Hales. Humans who marry into the Hale pack stay human but the last time that happened was more than one hundred and fifty years ago. The Hales are also unique because all of them, alphas and betas, have mates.
> 
> There are a few elitist families, (like the Argents) who believe the shift is the result of the pollution of the human genome. They take pride in being purely human, are “separatists” and only marry purely human people. Through the centuries, they have specialized in hunting dangerous supernatural creatures, including rogue werewolves.
> 
>  
> 
> **Last, but not least, people, _for reasons_ , can only achieve orgasm being sexual with other people. No masturbation! It just doesn’t work! No awkward teenage boners! People still have wet dreams, when they dream they are being sexual with someone else.**

Of course, Jackson Whittemore had to be the first to go through puberty.  
By his fourteenth birthday, he was not very tall, only 5’9 or so, but had developed a beautiful athletic body. His voice had transitioned smoothly to a clear tenor while his skin stayed perfectly clear of blemishes.

Over the next two years, all the boys Stiles’ age followed suit and turned into young men, including Scott McCall, his pack mate and best friend. All the while, though he grew taller, Stiles seemed doomed to look like a boy forever.

Although John Stilinski, his dad and Alpha, had told him a thousand times that all Stilinski boys were late bloomers, Stiles hated it. He had the highest GPA in his class, Lydia Martin his only serious competition, and he had Scott, the best friend anyone could have but when he answered the phone, people always assumed they were speaking to a woman, he had no body hair to speak of and his dick was the size of his middle finger.

It didn’t help that he was also the only human at school. Well, that wasn’t true. Lydia was human, too. But she was gorgeous _and_ confident _and_ popular, and no one cared. Everyone else could shift, if only a tiny bit, like Erica, who only got pointy canines and sharp nails, or Isaac Lahey, who only got cute pointy ears. Stiles had nothing. Everyone got tested when entering grammar school, middle school and high school, and all three times, his Strength, Agility, Speed, Sensory abilities and Healing (SASSH) ratings had been ones, Human level, across the board. Lydia’s were ones as well, but she wasn’t the type of person to trip on her own feet.

As a child, Stiles had seemed to always go around with a band-aid on his knee, or a runny nose, or even, for six utterly humiliating weeks, a cast on his left arm. (He had been seven at the time. Both he and Scott had broken their arms jumping from the garage roof with towels tied around their necks, pretending to be Superman. Of course, Scott had healed in about five minutes.) Though it was a little better now, he was still kind of a klutz and he bruised like a peach. 

At long last, puberty hit him in his junior year in high school. His voice finally changed, albeit ridiculously, going from deep to high and back again without his control for close to six months. His sudden growth spurt did nothing to improve his coordination, and showed no sign of slowing down as he grew taller than Jackson, then Scott and kept on going. Though he ate like a horse, his weight was not keeping up, and he started to seriously look like a scarecrow. An uncoordinated scarecrow…

To his immense relief though, things in his underwear finally, _finally!_ started shaping up. By the end of the school year, Stiles was 5’11”, 130lb and his voice had settled. He seemed to have escaped the zits that had plagued Scott for the better part of his sophomore year and well… in his pants, things really started looking up (plus wet dreams were fun!).


	2. Last summer before Sorting

2.

It was tradition for teens to spend the last summer before their Sorting Moon with another pack, one usually closely related or allied to their own. Though Scott’s Sorting Moon would be only about three weeks after the start of school, whereas Stiles’ would not be until spring, for both, it was the last summer before they found out if they were alphas or betas. 

Excepted for the few humans, the high school SASSH scores were fairly reliable predictors of classification. A score of 17 or above practically guaranteed an alpha and 13 or below a beta. Those in between could go either way. Scott’s score was 16, and Stiles was human, so in both their cases, there was some suspense.

Summer vacation started on the summer solstice and ended with the fall equinox. The day after the solstice, Scott and Stiles left for Montana, to join the Emmet pack. Sheriff John Stilinski’s older brother Mark was the pack’s second and mate to its Alpha, Sierra Emmet. They had 19 year-old twin boys, Luke and Thomas. The pack was large, including Sierra’s two siblings and her two cousins with their spouses and children, her grand parents and a few others, twenty-eight people in total.

The point of the tradition was to re-enforce the connection between allied packs in a world of constant pack skirmishes and warfare and for teens to experience life in a pack different than their own. Considering that at home, ever since Stiles’s mom had died and Scott’s Dad had left, it was only John, Melissa and the two boys, it certainly would be a change of pace.

Like most packs, the Emmets lived in isolation, in the middle of a huge territory that spread for miles in all directions from their homestead. The house itself was a large lodge near a lake and filled with all kinds of people, from six children aged two to thirteen, to Sierra’s grand parents, who were in their late seventies. The pack had huge gardens, lots of chickens and a few cows, and was almost self-sustaining.

The pack structure of the larger pack was interesting to Stiles and Scott. Sierra was the uncontested leader, but in everyday matters, she lead in seamless cooperation with her mate and second. She was full of energy, and a no-nonsense type of person. She and Mark worked hard to organize the work on the farm and make sure people were happy. She had an easy laugh, and distributed hugs and compliments often. The whole pack adored her. She stayed well out of the kitchen which was ran by her cousin Allegra but she often helped her grandfather and brother in the shop/garage, fixing cars, machinery and appliances. 

Her younger brother Charles was her “left hand”, a position that only existed in large packs where the Alpha could not be expected to take care of everything. Though she made the decisions, she trusted Charles to represent her in inter-pack relations and politics, and to keep up with what happened in the outside world. Charles and a few betas he trained with were also the first deterrent to strangers who might try to breach their territory.

Where she and Mark welcomed the boys with warm hugs and smiles, de facto making them temporary members of their pack, Charles just stood back, observing them, only giving them a small nod in welcome.

Luke and Thomas, Stiles cousins, were closest with them in age. They were home from University for the summer, to help with the planting, the harvest and the cutting and storing of the firewood needed to heat the enormous house in the winter. Stiles and Scott were two very welcome extra sets of hands and were expected to work all day, like everyone else.

At the break of dawn the first morning after their arrival, Stiles’s Uncle Mark came into the small attic room that was to be theirs for the summer and shook Stiles awake.

“Stiles! Wake-up, son,” he whispered.

“Hmff?”

“Put on some shorts and some running shoes, you’re going for a run with Moira before work.”

Moira was Alpha Sierra’s 28 year-old sister-in-law, Charles's wife.

“Huh… OK? Should I wake Scott?” Stiles asked.

“Nah. Let him sleep. Scott’s fine, he’s all done growing, but I bet you got a couple more inches coming your way.” His uncle smiled. “Us Stilinski’s, we’re all late bloomers, aren’t we… I remember what it was like the last year before my Sorting Moon, growing faster than I could learn to cope with. T’was the same for your dad, and for our boys. A run everyday will help you find your legs, and then, Allegra, our cook, will work at putting meat on your bones.”

Moira was waiting for him, and gave him a cup of sweet espresso and a smile. Then she dragged him along on a forty-five-minute run through fields and woods.

“You did well for your first day,” she said when they got back. He thought he might cough up a lung trying to recuperate, panting ridiculously hard, bend forward with his hands on his knees.

“Tomorrow, we’ll do a longer one,” she added. It was a terrifying thought, but just then Charles came out to the verandah to greet his wife with a kiss, and smirked at Stiles in a way that wiped all thoughts of objecting from his mind.

So Stiles ran everyday, and learned to split wood, and stacked cords after cords of it to dry. The soreness in his body, which the twins had generously lifted out of him regularly, disappeared after the first week and did not return. Both he and Scott ate like bottomless pits and slept like the dead, Stiles falling asleep at the dinner table half the time. 

After the spectacular sunburn he’d gotten early on, Stiles had learned to keep on his shirt, wear a baseball cap, and slather the sunscreen Moira provided for him. He actually now sported a bit of a tan.

On the day of the full moon, everyone got the day off to hang out together, playing with the children, talking, wrestling around and swimming in the lake. They barbecued what seemed like half a cow and took their meals on the lawn in front of the lodge, picnic style. 

As the moon rose, the pack prepared for their run, taking off shoes and extra clothing, and starting to shift. Alpha Sierra came out of the house dressed in brilliant white. Though she was the only alpha, there were some very strong betas in the pack and the run would be a hunt as well, the pack taking advantage of the full moon to kill most of the venison they ate during the month. They never bought meat. One could feel the excitement in the air.

Stiles, a bit forlorn, walked inside to find something to do with himself while he waited for their return. Moira appeared, chatting with Stiles’s Uncle Mark, wearing her running gear. 

She grinned. “Where do you think you’re going?” she asked.

“Huh… I have no wolf. I don’t shift at all, I’m all human…” he explained. He had assumed they all knew that. “I thought I’d read or watch a movie or something.”

She laughed. “Why do you think I run everyday? I’m all human too, goofball. Go get your gear!”

His Uncle Mark walked him toward the stairs, an arm around Stiles shoulders. “That’s right, Stiles. Get your stuff. In this pack, _everybody_ runs. Be quick, we’ll be waiting for you.” His affectionate slap on Stiles back started him taking the stairs two at a time.

As long as he could remember, Stiles had always stayed behind on the full moon, with Melissa, who was human as well, and had waited at home for their pack to return. No matter how much he’d wished he could, he had never thought humans might be _allowed_ to run with the packs.

He was back down the stairs in a flash, smiling so hard his face hurt. Moira was waiting by the French doors leading to the verandah and walked out with him. He received smiles from everyone, and felt completely welcome. 

Scott, already all wolfed out, was standing with the twins. His face just lit up when he saw Stiles. Scott rushed to wrap him in a tight hug and said, “I always wondered why you and my mom never came. I asked once, and my dad said it was too dangerous, that humans might get hurt. I’ve hated missing out on having you run with me all these years. Never again, Stiles, never again! This is gonna be awesome!”

Stiles enjoyed the hug and tried not to let his feelings spill over. He’d always hated being left behind, and to know that he had been missed was the best feeling in the world. However, he was distracted from becoming too sentimental by the sight of the twin, who had stripped all the way nude.

He had not been _looking_ , but… well, it was hard not to notice that they both were rather generously endowed. He understood why they had taken off all their clothes when Luke shifted into a large grey wolf. Before following suit, Thomas noticed where Stiles eyes kept involuntarily coming back to and chuckled before he too became a big grey wolf.

Stiles blushed at being caught out and almost jumped out of his skin when Mark, who had come to stand next to him, bumped shoulders with him and commented, “Us Stilinski boys! We may be late bloomers, but when we bloom, we really bloom!” He laughed. “Something you can look forward to too, Stiles!” Still chuckling, he left, joining Sierra at a jog. 

Sierra looked at her pack, her shifted featured both delicate and powerful, and howled, the power of her voice resonating through the forest and the heart and soul of each member of her pack. With so many, their answering howls filled the night, rising and falling in harmony. Moira, a few feet away from Stiles, joined her human voice to their ethereal song, and for the first time ever, Stiles felt free to raise his face to the moon and let his heart speak. Scott squeezed his shoulder in approval and they were off. 

Stiles was on such a high it felt as if his feet hardly touched the ground. He was so grateful that Moira had pushed him everyday, for over three weeks, to run harder, faster and longer. She ran with him now, staying on his left. Scott ran on his right, and the two grey wolves ran slightly ahead, guiding them through the night where the path was safest. Far ahead, Sierra’s white shirt was bright in the moonlight and the woods and fields were echoing with laughter and howls. Stiles had never felt so alive.

In the next couple of hours, pack members came and went, taking turns running with their humans, making sure Stiles felt like he belonged with a light touch or a smile. The children joined their slower group eventually, their youthful energy flagging. Sierra kept them company for a short while. Without slowing the pace, she placed her hand on Stiles’s neck, her claw tips careful of his skin, and the tiredness that had been creeping up on him vanished into her touch.

By the time they all made their way back to the lodge, Stiles and Moira collapsed on the front lawn, laughing, looking at the stars. The grey wolves nuzzled them playfully, before lying at their side, keeping them warm. Charles joined his wife, wrapping her in his arms, and Scott lay down with his head on Stiles's stomach.

“This was the best run ever,” he said. “John and I, we run with others in the preserve sometimes, the Reyes’s pack or the Boyd’s. But it still is only a handful of us. Sometimes, we can hear the Hales howling in the distance, and it sounds just like this pack does, but they stick to their land and they’re all wolves, you know. I wonder if some day we’ll have a bigger pack, you and I… I think I’d like that. But one thing for sure: I’m never running without you again.”

“You couldn’t leave me behind again if you tried,” said Stiles, feeling exhausted but really happy. He was amazed that some of the members of the pack had the energy to gut and butcher the four deers and the brace of rabbits that had been caught. He couldn’t move if he tried. “If we had a big pack, I wonder if I could learn to be your “left hand.””

“We don’t know for sure I’ll be an alpha, Stiles. _You_ might become my Alpha for all we know.”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course you’ll be an alpha, and even if we both were, you’d be _my_ Alpha. I’ve been following you around since we were three.”

“Human can do anything they want, Stiles, even be “left hands”,” said Charles, making them both jump. They’d forgotten they were not alone on the grass. “All it takes is absolute loyalty to your Alpha, which it is obvious you have for Scott, and intelligence and cunning, which I think you have to spare. To be really effective, it helps to create a certain amount of… weariness in your opponents, and that does not come from physical strength, but more from attitude and charisma. Lucky for you, humans are a lot scarier than wolves. In a large pack, there will always be someone with strength that can have your back in a physical fight. That’s the easy part.”

Charlie, Charles and Moira’s ten year-old son, came bouncing down the verandah steps and threw himself on his parents and wolf cousins, demanding cuddles. He lay on top of his dad, snuffling in his neck.

“Someone’s needs to go to bed,” commented his mother, ruffling his hair.

“M’not tired,” said Charlie, sleepily.

“Of course not, sweetie. I was talking about myself, of course,” she answered, smiling, as she got to her feet.

Charles followed suit, lifting his son into his arms as if he weight nothing. “Good night, boys,” he said, heading in.

“No run tomorrow, Stiles, and you guys can sleep in. We don’t start work until after lunch the day after the full moon,” said Moira, before following her husband.

“Oh, thank god! I’m not getting up till noon,” said Stiles, happily.

“Me neither,” answered Scott. “C’mon. Let’s go to bed.” He got up.

“Carry me!” begged Stiles. “I’m too tired to stand!”

“In your dreams. Get up, lazy.” Scott pulled him to his feet and when Stiles swayed a little, he wrapped Stiles arms over his shoulders and took some of his weight, mumbling, “Faker!”

“Good night, guys,” said Stiles to the twins as he and Scott made their way up to the verandah.

“Yeah,” said Scott, “Good night. See you tomorrow.” The wolves woofed in response.

“Do you think they’re going to stay wolfed out all night?” asked Stiles as they were climbing the stairs to their room.

“Nah. They were probably just waiting for you to leave to change back, considering how you ogled their junk earlier…”. Scott cracked up.

“You obviously noticed them too, asshole,” Stiles responded logically.

“Yeah, it would be hard not too, am I right? But at least I wasn’t staring!”

Stiles smacked him on the arm. “I wasn’t staring!”

“Riiight! Well, you heard your uncle. Apparently you won’t have to look further than your own pants to see one of these giant dicks pretty soon.”

“Oh, shut up.” But his uncle _had_ said so. He wondered if it was true. They’d been like, at least eight inches, _at rest_.

“How big do you think they get?” he asked, as they reached their room.

Scott frowned, actually giving it some thought. “Well, maybe they’re showers, not growers. But even if they only gain, like, one inch, they would still have nine-inch boners, at least. That’s pretty big.”

“That would put them in the 98 percentile,” said Stiles. “The average American male has a 5.9 inch erection.”

“Dude, how do you even know these things?” asked Scott, shaking his head, as he changed for bed.

“I researched it. I was kinda worried there for a while, you know?” explained Stiles, shrugging. 

They both brushed their teeth with probably less care than they should have given it, and Stiles fell into bed with a sigh of satisfaction. “Good night Scotty.” He was asleep in seconds.

Over the summer, Stiles grew three more inches and put on twenty pounds of lean muscle. On the last night at the lodge, he “borrowed” a measuring tape from the sewing room, for research purposes of course, and when he was sure Scott was deep asleep, he took some important measurements. He went to sleep with a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapters will be added every New Zealand Saturdays.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the last chapters, Stiles finally hit puberty. Then both he and Scott went away to experience life in a different pack than their own during the last summer before their Sorting, in this case, the Emmet pack, in Montana. Stiles learned to run with the pack on the full moon, and the hard work over the summer saw him come home all grown up, and in great shape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, just in case...  
> Some details about this universe:
> 
> The entire population in this AU shows some degree of “werewolfness” with the ability to shift distributed on a bell curve from 0: pure human, to 100: people who can shift to actual wolves. These two extremes are rare, about 1/400 of the population each. Overall, how much one can shift is pretty unimportant, kind of like eye color in our world.
> 
> Strength, Agility, Speed, Sensory abilities and Healing (SASSH) are independent of each other and of the degree of shift one can achieve. Each is individually rated from 1 to 5, the total being a person's SASSH score.
> 
> A lunisolar calendar (similar to the Jewish calendar) is used universally, and though people know their age in “Moons”, referring to the number of full moons they have known.
> 
> The 222nd full moon of a person’s life (including those fully human), is called their “Sorting” moon. It marks the beginning of adulthood. All at once, they become either alphas (lower case “a”) or betas, reach their full SASSH potential, find out their sexual identity and become aware or whether or not they have a mate (Rare even for alphas, extremely rare for betas).
> 
> The population of the planet is small, and arranged in packs, led by Alphas (Capitalized). Packs include alphas (lower case) who submit to their Alpha (capitalized) by accepting their ritual bite, and betas. Townships, like Beacon Hills, regroup small allied packs each with yard size territory abutting a large attached preserve shared by all, and under the protection of a very strong pack, like the Hales.
> 
> The bite of an Alpha is ALWAYS lethal to humans, so if a human sorts as an alpha, he or she submit to their Alpha by accepting a touch on the neck.
> 
> Two purely human people will only have purely human offspring.
> 
> Two people who can transform fully into wolves will never have purely human children, though their children’s level of “wereness” may vary.
> 
> The Hale pack is unique because every one of its born members can shift to full wolves and anyone (not human) bit by their Alpha develop that ability. When someone marries into any pack, they receive a ritual bite from the pack’s Alpha as a show of submission and become full shifters like all the other Hales. Humans who marry into the Hale pack stay human but the last time that happened was more than one hundred and fifty years ago. The Hales are also unique because all of them, alphas and betas, have mates.
> 
> There are a few elitist families, (like the Argents) who believe the shift is the result of the pollution of the human genome. They take pride in being purely human, are “separatists” and only marry purely human people. Through the centuries, they have specialized in hunting dangerous supernatural creatures, including rogue werewolves.
> 
>  
> 
> Last, but not least, people, for reasons, can only achieve orgasm being sexual with other people. No masturbation! It just doesn’t work! No awkward teenage boners! People still have wet dreams, when they dream they are being sexual with someone else.

3.

 

The day after the equinox, they were back in high school for their last year. Walking to their locker, Scott elbowed him playfully after Stiles had received two or three double takes. “Heather was checking you out,” he said.

Stiles shrugged. “She was not.”

It was only natural people should stare a little. Though still lean, he was like, a foot taller than a year before, and he hadn’t had a buzz cut all summer. It was not as if he’d suddenly become a babe magnet. He just looked different.

“Riiiight,” said Scott, chuckling, when Erica passed them by and gave Stiles a wink.

“Stop it. That’s just Erica. She’s always been nice to me.”

That was true. She’d always said “Hi,” even when at best people treated him like he was transparent and at worse, snickered along at Jackson’s constant bullying.

“You know,” said Scott, “you should try out for Lacrosse this year.”

“Yeah, right,” answered Stiles, rolling his eyes. “As if Finstock would ever let me play.”

“He wouldn’t. But we don’t body check in training, and it would be a great way to stay in shape for the moon runs.”

“Hmm... I can’t imagine why I would hesitate to play a contact sport with a bunch of were…Oww!” Just then, he hit his locker hard from a “friendly” shove by Jackson.

“Listen to him, McCall. The boy is speaking sense for once. He might be taller, but he is still nothing but a fragile human…”

They all turned at the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. A few lockers down, Lydia Martin had pushed a book from the shelf in her locker onto the floor. “Oops. Jackson, I dropped my book…” she said sweetly.

Jackson shrugged. “So pick it up.”

“But… I might break a nail, or twist my ankle… I'm just a fragile human…”

“I’ll get it, Lydia,” said Danny, smirking, as Greenberg and Isaac also started moving to come to her “rescue”.

“Back off!” growled Jackson, as he scrambled to pick the book up himself. 

Lydia looked at Stiles over Jackson’s bent back, winked at him and smirked. Jackson held the book out to her, but she said breathily, “You’ll carry it for me, won’t you?” Without waiting for his answer, she closed her locker and walked away, her three-inch Leboutin click-clacking on the linoleum, their red soles flashing, Jackson following meekly. Stiles was amazed. Lydia had never even acknowledged his existence before.

“Charles was right,” commented Scott. “Humans are way scarier than wolves…”

 

During their first period, their history teacher introduced a new student named Allison, who blushed and smiled. She had pretty brown wavy hair and looked friendly.

“She seems nice,” commented Stiles to Scott. When Scott didn’t answer, Stiles turned to him ready to repeat himself, but thought better of it when he saw Scott. He was staring at the new girl with an awed look on his face, and only came back to life after she sat down behind him and started digging into her bag.

“Need a pen?” asked Scott, handing her his.

“Oh! Yeah, thanks.” She smiled at Scott, and she looked really cute, with dimples in her cheeks and shiny eyes. 

“You’re welcome,” answered Scott, all manly like, and he turned around and stole Stiles' blue pen from his desk, the one Stiles used to write important dates. Great! Now Stiles only had three colors. How was he supposed to take decent notes with only _three_ colors? The sacrifice a man made for his best friend…

By lunchtime, the school's grape vine had already spread the news about all the seniors who had gone through their Sorting Moon during summer. Out of twelve, only Danny Maehalani and Vernon Boyd, who had scored 15 and 16 on their SASSH respectively, were alphas, and the rest were all betas. It was one of the exciting aspects of senior year: Three to five student would find out their status every full moon. Scott, Isaac Lahey and Kara Simmons were next. Isaac scored a 12 and Kara an 11, so they were almost certain to be betas. Should Isaac become an alpha himself, everybody knew he would submit to his big brother Camden, his Alpha, anyway. He worshipped him.

Camden Lahey’s SASSH had been a 19, and after becoming an alpha, he had refused to submit to his father Wesley. Camden had given his father the choice of defending his position as Alpha with a ritual duel or of leaving the pack. Sheriff Stilinski, as Beacon Hills’ law, and Talia Hale, as the head of the Beacon Hills’ township Alpha council, had been called to witness the duel. It had taken Camden less than six minutes to rip his father’s throat out with his teeth. It turned out that Wesley Lahey had been horribly abusive to his entire pack and everyone in his pack had celebrated Camden rather brutal ascension to Alphahood.

Luckily, such dramas were more the exceptions than the rule. Few young alphas felt the need to replace their current head of pack. Most of them submitted, and went on to college, then came home and learned as much as possible from their Alpha, enjoying their freedom before having to take on the responsibility of a pack themselves. 

In packs where there were several young alphas, the succession was usually worked out long before it actually occurred. The current Alpha chose his or her successor, and the others had choices. They either agreed from the start to submit to the new Alpha when the time came, or became the Alphas’ mates in other packs. Some were adopted in packs where all the teenagers had Sorted as betas, a few started their own pack, and some joined other packs, by mating or adoption, submitting to those packs’ Alphas.

A contentious Alpha succession with in-pack fighting would weaken a pack, and almost insured an attack and take over by a rival pack. Even in a Township like Beacon Hills, it would create a lot of unrest, one the head of the Township’s Alpha council would rapidly put an end to, brutally if necessary.

 

At lunch, Scott and Stiles were used to sitting alone together, so before they walked into the cafeteria, Scott asked Stiles if it would be OK for him to ask the new girl, Allison, to sit with them if she was alone. Stiles hoped she would be, because Scott looked like an eager puppy just talking about her. Scott and Allison had apparently sat next to each other in German and, after comparing their schedules, had found out they also had biology together.

Scott’s face fell and Stiles felt bad for him when Allison arrived chatting happily with Lydia Martin. The popular crowd had apparently already grabbed her up, not too strange a thing considering how pretty she was and how nice she seemed. After they got their food, Lydia, who had been joined by Jackson and Danny, started walking towards the “Popular” table, the one in the center of the room where they usually sat along with Cora Hale, Isaac Lahey and a few of the other “beautiful” people.

She stopped when Allison did not automatically follow her, though. Allison seemed to scan the room. Having found Scott, she smiled at him and said a few words to Lydia. Jackson cut in with what Stiles was sure was an asshole remark. Lydia rolled her eyes, and to Stiles' shock, started walking in the direction of their table. After a moment’s hesitation, and obviously grumbling to Danny, Jackson followed along.

“Hey, Stiles, is it OK if we join you?” asked Allison. He only nodded, because he had a mouthful of food, and she sat next to Scott.

Stiles was warmed by the fact that Scott had evidently talked to her about him. He decided she was awesome and lovely, and his new best friend “in law”.

“Allison! And how has Beacon Hills High been treating you so far?” he asked, after swallowing, as if pretty girls said hello to him on a daily basis.

“Great! Everyone has been so friendly and welcoming! Scott said you’re in my AP English lit class after lunch?”

“I am, and actually, so is Lydia.” Hey, who knows, Stiles might be on a roll. After ten years of pretending he did not exist, Lydia might actually acknowledge him _again_! 

Completely blowing his mind, Lydia actually _sat_ next to Stiles, across from Allison. As a matter of fact, and though Stiles had never dreamed it would make a difference, she and Stiles had _all_ their AP classes together: English, (both language and literature), calculus, physics, chemistry and government. Sadly for Stiles, Jackson was in three of them as well, giving him plenty of chances to bully Stiles.

“And so are Jackson and Danny,” added Lydia, as if she and Stiles _habitually_ finished each others' sentences.

“Do you know the teacher?” asked Allison.

“Brower. I had him last year,” said Danny. “He’s good.”

“So, Danny,” asked Lydia, not even bothering to pretend the rumor mill had not already informed everyone in school of his newly revealed alpha status. “When are you getting tested again?”

The scores in these final SASSH, taken after their Sorting, would qualify weres for certain jobs. Stiles’ dad, for example, had needed a minimum of 4 in sensory perception and threes everywhere else to be eligible to become sheriff.

“Not much of a segue, there, Lydia,” commented Stiles, because he _would_ criticize the most popular girl in school the first time she sat next to him. Yep, he was a moron.

To his great relief, Lydia laughed. “Point, Stiles. But we all want to know, and I’m the only one who’ll have the nerve to ask, so there.”

Danny smiled at her. “In a couple of weeks. My shift is the same, as far as I can tell, but I can hear better, I think.”

“You’re going to stay in the Whittemore pack with Jackson, right?” she asked, getting more personal. 

Jackson’s score, because he was _such_ a douchenozzle, was a 19, pretty much guarantying he would Sort as an alpha and he already shifted to a gorgeous white wolf. Everyone knew he would be the next Alpha of the Whittemore pack, no matter how many other alphas there might be in the pack.

“Of course.” Danny and Jackson bumped fists.

“Do you have a mate?” Lydia pressed on.

Stiles was impressed. She really was shameless. That was a _very_ personal question. Aside from being the moon when one discovered one’s alpha or beta status, the Sorting Moon was, as well, the time when one’s sexual inclination was confirmed, though most people had an idea before hand. It was also the time when one would become aware of the existence of one’s true mate, if one was lucky enough to have one, from a deep feeling impossible to describe, but also impossible to mistake for anything else.

About half of the alphas had true mates, but only about one beta in twenty. Just because you did not have a true mate didn’t mean you couldn’t fall in love and have a wonderfully fulfilling relationship, but true mates were absolutely perfect for one another. They had a deep, unbreakable, emotional, physical and spiritual bond. Once joined they sometimes found their abilities heightened, and in a world where children were rare and precious, they were likely to have more than one.

“I do. But I’m gay, so there won’t be children. I’m going to live it up for a while, until I run into him,” said Danny, grinning, seemingly not bothered at all by Lydia’s curiosity. Unlike their heterosexual counterparts who usually wanted to be each others’ first, gay males often had sex with others until they found their mate, only saving penetrative sex for each other.

“Had you always known you were gay or did it take you by surprise?” asked Allison, something Stiles would never had dared asked, but had been wondering.

“I was pretty sure. I always like the way men looked. Do you think you might be gay?” asked Danny.

Scott suddenly looked crestfallen, as if he had never considered the possibility. 

“No,” said Allison. “I’m straight. But I didn’t know before my Sorting Moon.”

“Oh, cool! You’re Sorted too? “ cried Lydia, as Scott did a poor job hiding his evident relief. “Which was your Sorting Moon?” asked Lydia. “Are you an alpha or a beta? Did it change you much? And yes, Styles, I know I’m being nosy. I’m beautiful and amazing. People forgive my trespasses. Since _apparently_ we’re hanging out now, you might as well get used to it.”

Allison cracked up. “The crow moon. It changed nothing because I’m human. And I’m an alpha.”

“Oh, my god! I’m human too! And so is Stiles! This table is 50% human! And 50% alphas. We are so going to rule this place… “ Lydia grinned. “My Sorting Moon is also the crow moon. What’s yours, Stilinski?” 

“The pink moon,” answered Stiles. He would be the last one amongst them to find out his status and the day seemed kind of far away, now.

“What’s yours, Scott?” asked Allison, giving Scott her dimpled smile.

“The hunter moon,” replied Scott, blushing.

“Oh, wow! Next moon! Are you excited?”

He was glowing under Allison’s attention. “Yeah, a little. Nervous, too, I guess. My score so far is a 16, so… It could go either way.” He added, looking earnestly at Allison, “I’m already pretty sure I’m straight though…”

Stiles found it quite telling that his packmate would make sure to mention his sexual inclination in there…

“You’re co-captain of the lacrosse team, and Stilinski follows you like a puppy. You’ll be an alpha, I bet,” said Danny.

“There you go,” said Lydia, as if Danny had just somehow proven her point.


	4. Scott's Sorting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, the boys went back to school for senior year. Stiles is surprised to be treated differently now that he is all grown up. His status improves further when Allison, the new girl in school, takes a liking to Scott.

4.

The only reason Stiles tried out for Lacrosse was that Jackson had agreed with him that he shouldn’t. 

Though he was obviously neither as fast nor as strong as the others, it turned out he made up for it with deadly accuracy, which surprised him as much as anyone, and he made the team. Had it not been for the physical risks, Coach Finstock might have actually let him play during games. As it was, even with Finstock’s no contact rule, Stiles already regularly came back from practice with major bruises. Half of them were accidental, and the other half Jackson related.

Stiles continued running every morning, pushing himself mercilessly, and with the Lacrosse training, he was now in the best shape of his life.

At the next full moon, the hunter moon, Scott’s Sorting moon, John Stilinski was surprised to see his son come down the stairs, wearing his running gear as he and Scott were about to head out.

“Stiles? What’s going on?” he asked.

“I’m going running with you and Scott, that’s what!” he said, a might challengingly.

“I know you’re impatient to know Scott’s status, but don’t worry, you don’t have to come. Except for me, you and Melissa will be the first to know, son. You don’t need to endanger yourself,” the Sheriff said, misunderstanding his intent.

“Dad, I ran with the Emmett pack for three moons. It’s got nothing to do with Scott. I’m never staying behind again. I’m running with my pack.”

“The Emmet pack is isolated and strong, Stiles, we’re not, we run into other packs all the time…”

“All of them allied to us within the township, and under the Hales. I’m coming, Dad.”

“No, you’re are not.” John flashed his red eyes. “Don’t make me enforce it.”

“Use your Alpha position to make me stay behind, and I will never forgive you,” warned Stiles, pissed, but feeling his eyes tear up at the thought of displeasing his Alpha.

“Neither would I, John,” said Scott, standing squarely by Stiles. “I never want to run another moon without Stiles,” he added.

“Dammit, Scott! Not you too. You know it’s dangerous out there on the full moon. We could be attacked by a pack from outside the township, some teenager could lose control…”

“No one has attacked the township in over seventy years, and the Hales are more powerful than ever. As far as someone losing control, we’ll be with Stiles the entire time,” argued Scott, reasonably. “Please, John. It’s my Sorting Moon. I want Stiles with me. He’s in great shape, he’s been running every morning and even joined the Lacrosse team to be able to keep up with us…”

John Stilinski looked torn. He’d never given any thought to his human son joining the run, because Melissa’s ex-husband had been so adamant that Melissa should stay safely locked behind closed doors on the full moons, and Stiles had stayed with her since she and her husband had joined the Stilinski pack, when Stiles and Scott were toddlers. But Raphael McCall had been an ass, and had now been gone for years. 

John put his hands on Stiles shoulder, to make sure he had his attention. “You stay with us the entire time. First sign of trouble, we’re heading back, no argument. Is that clear?”

‘Yes, Dad,” said Stiles grinning, almost giddy with relief that the stand off with his Alpha was over.

“Absolutely,” agreed Scott.

They high-fived each other and the sheriff smiled ruefully. “It will be nice to have you there,” he admitted. Melissa, who had been expecting John’s reaction, looked happy and relieved that the small confrontation had ended well.

“You’re going to be all right alone, Mel?” asked John.

“I’m going to take a long bath and very much enjoy an evening to myself, truthfully,” she answered.

John smiled warmly at her. Stiles wondered, not for the first time, if his Dad would ever follow his heart and man up, or if he would continue to pine for his pack’s second for the rest of his life. Melissa got a quick kiss and a hug from each of her male packmates, and closed the front door behind them.

Out on the front lawn, illuminated by the brilliant moon in a cloudless sky, all three took deep breath of the mild night air.

“Well,” said John, “ready or not…”

He wolfed out, which in his case was pretty spectacular. He was as close to a full wolf as someone could get and still stay on two legs, which made him a lot more frightening looking than an actual wolf. His hands, with shortened fingers and long, sharp claws had a particularly vicious appearance. The fangs in his short muzzle looked truly lethal. Next to him, Scott’s shift, though otherwise pretty impressive, seemed totally benign.

John looked up at the orb that ruled their lives and filled the evening with his deep, powerful howl. Scott and Stiles answered, and they took off. Living in the township meant hearing the howl of many other Alphas and their packs’ answers throughout the evening. It required strong control from the Alphas, who each had very small territories and shared the large preserve.

On the other hand, it allows for very small pack like theirs to exist, which they could never do in the wilderness. There were one thousand three hundred and seventy seven townships in the United States, including the two hundred and twelve University towns, each of them under the aegis of a very strong pack that insured their safety and independence. Beacon Hills was one of the oldest, the Hale pack one of the most respected. 

Soon, Stiles, Scott and John reached the edge of their seven-acre property and stepped into the preserve. For Stiles, seeing the site of so many childhood games by moonlight was really magical. It felt both familiar and utterly foreign. Scott bumped shoulders with him and grinned as if he knew what Stiles was thinking.

There was a short howl coming from their right.

“The Reyes,” Scott explained to him. “They’re asking if we want company.”

“Cool! It’d be fun to run with Erica!” said Stiles. “Unless you’d prefer it be just the three of us tonight,” he added, remembering how special tonight was for Scott.

“Nah. I like the Reyes a lot.”

“They and the Boyds are our closest allies. It will be extra protection for Stiles, too,” said John, who had scaled down his shift so he could speak.

Stiles rolled his eyes at his father's over protectiveness as John answered the Reyes pack with a short welcoming howl of his own. Soon the small pack of five, led by Erica’s mom, their short blond Alpha, made their way to them through the trees.

“Stiiiiles!” cried Erica joyfully. She whooped and bumped into him not too gently. He would have crashed had she not caught his arm at the last second to keep him upright.

“My delicate wallflower,” commented her mother ruefully. “Scott,” she added ritually, knowing it was his Sorting Moon, “It is an honor to share this hunter moon run with you.”

“Thank you, Alpha Reyes.”

They picked up the pace, Erica on one side of Stiles, and Scott on the other, the Alphas running up ahead, side by side, the rest of the Reyes pack behind them. Stiles realized they had automatically taken the positions that would best protect him, and sighed interiorly at the ridiculously protective nature of werewolves.

It was not more than fifteen minutes later that another inquiring howl was heard.

“The Boyds,” said Scott with a smile. “Let them come,” he added to John who looked questioningly at him over his shoulder. John would not usually consult Scott, but tonight was his special night. He should get to choose who would witness his Sorting.

The Boyds came crashing through the underbrush, nowhere near a path, laughing and jostling for position. There were six of them, all alphas, as luck would have it, the only girl nineteen-year old Angelique, their classmate Boyd’s (who preferred to go by his last name) older sister. Vernon Senior, one of John’s deputies, was the Alpha. Vern's brother and his two nephews rounded up the pack.

“It’s an honor to join you this moon,” said Vernon Senior to Scott.

“Hear, hear!” added his brother and second.

“Thank you,” answered Scott. “I’m glad both the Reyes’ and the Boyd’s packs are with us tonight.”

Boyd came to join Erica. He was as quiet and stoic as she was boisterous and wild, but they had been best friends since kindergarten. Now that they had reached a critical mass, the wolves felt free to take turns dashing ahead and goofing off. With thirteen of them to keep Stiles safe, including eight alphas, John visibly relaxed and started enjoying the run.

After another half an hour or so, the group started running as if they had a definite destination in mind, and only limited time to get there. Stiles was starting to fatigue and found his training put to the test as, for a few minutes, he had to run all out to keep up. Finally, he saw the clearing they were obviously heading for and realized they wanted to reach it before the moon was at its apogee and its influence would kick start the last stage of Scott’s maturation.

Once there, they all stood around, chatting and howling playfully, in kind of a circle. Suddenly, Scotty, who’d been joking with Stiles and Erica, tilted back his head and let out a long howl to the moon. They all went quiet, watching his silent communication with the pale orb above them.

After a long minute, he shook himself, reminding Stiles of a wet dog getting out of a bath. When he opened his eyes, they glowed the most vivid crimson. His face was much hairier than before, and his teeth did not look simply like extra long human ones, as they had in his previous shift. As the matter of fact his mouth seemed filled with long, white, lethal looking fangs. Scott took a few deep breaths, scenting the air, and tilted his head, listening to the night noises with that move that was universal to all canines. 

When he howled again, it had the kind of powerful depth to it that spoke to the wolves’ deepest instincts. All the betas present cowed a little and it visibly took a lot of control for Erica’s mom and Boyd’s dad to not react to the incipient challenge. John, on the other hand, responded with just as powerful a howl.

Stiles suddenly got nervous when his dad and his best friend seemed to engage in a staring contest, both growling low. Scott stalked slowly toward John, who stood his ground, hackles raised. As soon as Scott entered the sheriff’s personal space though, he quieted, lowered his gaze, and tilted his head in submission.

The quick nip John gave the back of Scott’s neck was deep enough to bleed but started healing immediately, and John, scaling down his shift so he could speak, enfolded Scott in a hug and said with a smile, “Scott McCall of the Stilinski pack is an alpha. Someday he may lead a pack of his own.” He backed away, his hands on Scott shoulders. “You honor me by trusting me to continue to lead our pack, Scott. Thank you.”

“I can only hope to be as good an Alpha as you are if the time comes.” Scott’s eyes were no longer the deep crimson of a dominant Alpha, but the vermillion of a submitted one. Stiles was ecstatic. He’d always _thought_ Scotty would someday be his Alpha, but it was not the same as actually _knowing_ it. He rushed his friend, hugging him hard. Scott hugged him back, laughing.

“Dude, you look fierce!” said Stiles.

“Really? All my senses seem to be ten times better, too,” said Scott, smiling happily.

“And you healed from that bite super quick. I can’t wait to see your new scores!”

“Me neither!”

Boyd’s dad slapped Scott on the back and said, ”Make your pack proud, Scott!” Erica’s mom came and shook his hand, using a much more formal version of the traditional congratulatory expression. “May you bring honor to your pack, Scott.”

The good wishes offered by the two Alphas reminded Stiles of what he was suppose to say. “I couldn’t wish for a better pack mate, Scotty.” It was a time-honored phrase, but he meant every word.

“An alpha is a shield to his packmates. The Stilinski pack is fortunate in your Sorting,” said Erica, surprisingly choosing a rather old fashioned idiom to acknowledge Scott’s new status.

“Yeah,” said Boyd, putting a hand on Scott shoulder as if to drive his point. “What she said.” Scott looked a bit taken aback at that, but then seemed to make sense of it and nodded to both of them with a smile.

Stiles decided to ask him later what that was about.

“You are privileged to have such a great Alpha to emulate, Scott. Learn well,” said Boyd’s Uncle Guideon.

“Don’t fuck up,” said Jude, one of his cousins.

“And if you do, don’t get caught!” added Terrence, the other, cracking up.

“Boys!” complained Vernon Senior, shaking his head. “Could you just once not embarrass me?”

“Fine,” said Jude. He added, very seriously, “Scott, you should never embarrass your Alpha.” They all laughed.

“I’ll do my best,” promised Scott, grinning.

“Lead us back, Scott,” said John.

Scott let out a powerful howl, and took off at a brisk pace, Stiles and John right behind him, and the others followed, all of them in a celebratory mood. The Boyds and the Reyes escorted them back all the way to the edge of the Stilinski territory, thanking Scott again for letting them share his Sorting Moon run before parting ways.

Scott and John howled together, as they always did upon coming home to let Melissa know they were almost there. She welcomed them back standing on the back porch. Scott wolfed out all the way, showing off for his mom.

“Oh, Scott!” she exclaimed. “You look amazing!”

He picked his mother up and swirled her around as she laughed. When they went in, there was a chocolate cake on the table and some bubbly apple juice. John smiled at Melissa and thanked her.

They were all enjoying the unexpected treat when Scott announced, “I have a mate.” He smiled, almost sheepishly. It was traditional to tell your close ones, but it still was kind of personal.

It was also very good news. John and Claudia had been close and happy, but not mates. Melissa and Raphael obviously hadn’t been either. With a true mate, Scott was sure to have a happy marriage.

“That’s fantastic, Scott. May you find him or her soon,” said John, smiling.

“Her,” said Scott with a smile. “Definitely her.”

“Yeah!” cried Melissa, thrilled, “Grandbabies!”

“Gee, mom, how about I find her, first…” replied Scott, laughing.

As he and Stiles were heading upstairs, Stiles said, “Well?”

Scott turned to him, with a big smile. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s her, it’s Allison.”

“That’s great,” answered Stiles, and he meant it. He really liked Allison.

“I can’t wait to see her,” said Scott. “I think she kind of knew…”

Most people could sense their mates when they met them, even if they had not gone through sorting yet, so they only knew for sure once both of them had sorted. It was fabulous that Scott would not have to wait years before he met her.


	5. Hunters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the previous chapter, Stiles convinced his Alpha to let him run with his pack on the full moon. It was Scott Sorting Moon, and Stiles was thrilled Scott Sorted as an alpha. Scott always had a feeling he was heterosexual, but was glad to find out he actually had a mate, and knew immediately that it was Allison.

The next day, when they got to school in Stiles’ tired Jeep, Allison was waiting for them, alone, looking really pretty in one of those short skirts she wore with big boots, her hair shiny and loose. When Scott got out of the car, she was looking down and biting her lips trying not to smile, but then gave it up when she looked up at him and they ended up just beaming at each other.

“Stiles, do you mind if I borrow Scott for a minute?” she asked, still smiling, and blushing a little.

“Nah. I’ll see you guys inside,” he said. Scott was lucky. She really was beautiful, with that perfect skin and these cute dimples.

He was thrilled for his best friend. Allison had obviously known they were mates, and probably wanted to talk to him about making an appointment with Counselor Deaton as soon as possible, impatient for them to bond and be together. That was so sweet. She even seemed a bit nervous, holding her schoolbooks tight to her chest. 

Stiles took the stairs to the school two by two and pulled open the heavy front door. He still was not quite used to the fact that he was no longer a non-entity at school, that he didn’t need to feel like he had to slink in because he didn’t belong. Now, as he walked in, a bunch of people greeted him. When she saw him coming, Lydia Martin actually waited for him so they could walk to their lockers together. It felt really good.

“So?” she asked, raising one of her perfect eyebrows.

“An alpha,” answered Stiles, who knew Scott wouldn’t care if he told.

She nodded knowingly. She really didn’t look surprised. “Very nice,” she commented. “Lahey’s a beta. Jackson’s next, though there won’t be much surprise there.”

“What do you think you’re going to be?” asked Stiles, genuinely curious. It was an awfully personal question, but both of them were human, therefore clueless as to how they would Sort, and he could ask her things like that, now.

She shrugged. “My colorings would look much better with blue eyes… So, hopefully a beta. It won’t make any difference anyway.” She smirked. “I managed to get on top of the social ladder of this high school as a human, I’m not going to let my Sorting interfere with my future. I’ll be mated to Jackson, rule the Whittemore pack while he thinks he does and head the Whittemore foundation because I’m perfect for the job…”

She flipped her long hair over her shoulder as she turned toward her locker, dialing her combination with precise accuracy, her perfect oval nails beautifully manicured. Within seconds, Jackson arrived with Danny, ready to do her bidding, as usual. She grinned and winked at Stiles, who couldn’t help but laugh as he turned towards his own locker.

He, as usual, had to redial his code three times before his lock reluctantly clicked open. He was wondering whether to take his huge math book now or come back for it later (after all, he didn’t have a Jackson to carry it…) when Scott rejoined him, sans Allison.

“Come out with me a second,” he said, looking grim. That meant they needed to talk, outside of everyone’s hearing.

“We’ll be late,” said Stiles. It was a statement, not an objection. If Scott needed to talk, they’d would. They walked side by side to the Lacrosse field, Scott’s whole demeanor betraying his agitation, and sat on the bleachers, shoulder to shoulder.

“Allison’s not your mate?” asked Stiles, his only guess as to why Scott should look so glum.

Scott smile was ridiculously dopey, and he blushed a little. “No, no, she is.” He sighed happily. “And she knew it, too, as soon as I gave her my pen, remember? She said she could tell… She’s amazing, Stiles. She’s so beautiful. And her scent! She’s really smart too! I’m so lucky…”

“Yeah, dude, you are,” Stiles interrupted, wanting to get back on track. “So… why are we here?”

Scott’s smile disappeared and his worried look came back, including a crease between his eyebrows Stiles had never seen there before. “There’s a problem. Her family… They’re Hunters.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah.”

Hunters were separatists. They were all humans, and didn’t marry weres. But Allison had definitely not looked as if she was going to tell Scott to stay away from her...

“So, what did Allison say?”

Scott ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Her parents made plans for her to marry this French guy she doesn’t even know when she was just a baby. That’s how they do it, Hunters. How they stay “pure”.” 

He looked at Stiles. “When she Sorted, she didn’t tell them she had a mate, because they would have taken her to France and married her off right away. She says humans are not as driven by the need to be with their actual mates as werewolves. If they meet their mates after they are already married, they just stay away from them and they’re OK. They can still… you know, have sex with whoever they married and stuff, and have babies, even.” 

He looked at Stiles as if seeking confirmation from him as a human, because to him, as a werewolf, it seemed so unbelievable. Stiles just made a face and shrugged. He had no idea. He wasn’t even Sorted yet, so at this point, it was all theoretical to him.

Scott sighed again, and went on. “Well, anyway, that’s what they would have expected her to do. But she doesn’t want an arranged marriage. She wanted to find her true mate. And she’s not a separatist, like they are. She doesn’t think there is anything wrong with werewolves. She doesn’t care that I’m not human, she still wants us to be together.” He gave Stiles a little smile, proud of his mate.

“What are you guys going to do?” asked Stiles, more concerned about logistics.

“Ever since she figured out it was me, she’s been thinking it through." Scott blushed bright red. "Hum… We’re going to mate, consummate the bond. Without telling anyone. After that, it will be illegal for them to separate us.”

“Man, the Hunters are going to be pissed.”

Scott nodded. “Worse than that, actually. She’s kind of looked into it. It seems that it won’t be the first time a Hunter bonded with his or her mate instead of toeing the line. What happens is they get kicked out of their family (they don’t call them pack), but oftentimes their mates tend to meet with some tragic end shortly thereafter, and then their family reels them back in. Considering that Allison is one of the very few Argent children of her generation, and is positioned to be the next Alpha, she feels that I might well be in actual danger. So… we’re going to keep it a secret for now.”

“Well, you won’t be able to keep it a secret forever,” Stiles pointed out, reasonably, a spike of worry for his packmate hitting him.

“No. But I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Until then, we’ll just act like we’re friends.” He looked at his best friend pleadingly. “But Stiles, I’m gonna need you to cover for me so we can spend some time together.”

“Of course, you dork. You know you don’t even have to mention it.” He hesitated, then asked, “You don’t want to even tell my Dad?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure. It might be better in the end if he can honestly say he had no idea, you know? And anyway, for sure not until… You know, until we’re bonded.” Scott blushed again.

Stiles was already thinking ahead. “Allison and I are in English lit together. We can team up for projects, or say we did, anyway. And you got a bunch of classes with her. She can be over “to study.”” He smiled at Scott encouragingly, bumping shoulders with him. “I’ll cover for you guys anytime. She’s your mate, dude. Separatists are idiots.”

Scott smiled back. “Thanks Stiles.”

“I’m really glad I’m human, all of a sudden,” said Stiles, fake serious. Then, unable to keep a straight face, he added teasingly, “I have a feeling not hearing what goes on in your room is going to be a blessing.”

“Oh, my god, Stiles, shut up!” said Scott, hiding his red face in his hands, while Stiles laughed at him.

Then he checked, “Both my dad and your mom are working tonight, right?”

“Uh, yeah. So, uh… We were thinking she should come over if that’s…”

“Shut up. Of course she’s coming,” agreed Stiles decisively. “The sooner you’re bonded and have the law on your side, the better, right?” He continued, thinking out loud. “Then I should be the one to drive her home in time for whatever curfew her parents give her. Better they see her with me, the skinny human, than with you, the handsome werewolf, right?”

“Thanks, Stiles. That’s…”

“Yeah, yeah, you love me. Whatever. Dude, we gotta go. First period is almost over. I’m not going to be late for second period because of your star-crossed romance. I have a nerd reputation to uphold.”

Scott cracked up. They headed back to the school, bumping shoulders playfully once in a while as they walked.


	6. Good changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this is a Sterek fic!  
> I know it is taking a looooong time for Derek to even make an appearance, but please, hang in there?  
> (In Corollary of Parallel and Divergence, my other WIP, they were fucking in the first chapter, so it balances out, right?)

Stiles was taking off his Lacrosse jersey when the shove came, hard enough that he landed on his ass after banging his back painfully in his open locker door and hitting his shin into the bench.

“Sorry, Stilinski! I didn’t see you there!” said Jackson, who was buck-naked, with his towel around his neck, going to the shower. He laughed. “Oops! Looks like that hurt!”

“Dammit, Jackson! Yes, it fucking hurts, OK? Is that what you want to hear? Yes, my shin is gonna bruise, and yeah, the scratch on my back is probably bleeding. We all know I’m human and that you’re gonna be a big bad Alpha. What the fuck are you trying to prove?”

Scott and Danny, who’d been trading balls after practice, walked in together as Jackson answered, “Oh, I don’t have anything to prove, Stilinski. But perhaps since you’re so fragile, you should leave Lacrosse to those who can handle it. Maybe you should go join the chess club or something…”

Scott put down his cross and walked towards Jackson, crowding him just a little, impinging ever so slightly on his personal space. He said calmly, “Stiles has as much right as you have to be here, Jackson. He made the team. I think it’s about time you leave him alone, actually.”

Shit. Scott was going to get his ass kicked too, now. Stiles just undressed as fast as possible, hoping his leaving for the showers would diffuse the situation and wanting to get out of the locker room as fast as possible.

“What are you going to do about it, McCall?” asked Jackson, smirking.

“Oh, I don’t know…” He looked down as Jackson dick and grinned. “Perhaps start the rumor that the reason you pick on Stiles is that his cock is bigger at rest than yours is with a hard on?”

Danny cracked up, striping off his sweaty jersey. Jackson had nothing to be ashamed of, but it didn’t change the fact that Scott’s evaluation was probably true. Stiles was _hung_.

Jackson’s eyes involuntarily flicked to Stiles’ cock before he could stop himself. “Everybody knows that’s not why!” he said, defensively. “I’ve been picking on Stiles since third grade…”

“Yeah, you have,” agreed Scott. “And I think it’s about time you give it up.”

“Well, aren’t you taking yourself seriously now that you sorted as an alpha…”

_”An alpha is a shield to his packmates”_ , quoted Scott. “Yeah, I take that pretty seriously.”

Jackson snorted. “What, are you going to have your Alpha talk to my Alpha, McCall, or better yet, hey! why don’t you take your concerns to the Alpha council next?” he mocked.

“Hm. I hadn’t thought about it, but… Do you think Alpha Hale would endorse someone who enjoys bullying humans to be the next Alpha of one of the biggest packs in the township? Because it’s not as if you were the _only_ alpha in the Whittemore pack, right? And after all, _everybody_ likes Danny…”

“Well,” Danny interjected, chuckling appreciatively at Scott's uncharacteristic mischievousness, “although I have no desire to be the Whittemore pack Alpha, I think McCall does have a point, Jackson.” He shrugged. “Throwing your weight around might have been OK when we were in third grade, but… isn’t it about time you grew up?” He slapped his best friend on the shoulder and walked to the showers, whistling what sounded like the theme to the “Harry Potter” movies to himself.

Jackson watched him walk away, a shell-shocked expression on his face. He went into the shower room without another word but stood under the furthest shower head, his back to the rest of the team.

He was still in there when Scott and Stiles headed home. On the way out the door, Boyd joined them for a moment. “Well done,” he said to Scott.

“Thank you, and thank Erica for the reminder,” Scott said.

Boyd smiled and walked away. Stiles now remembered having meant to ask Scott about Erica and Boyd’s very formal greeting the night before. _“An alpha is a shield to his packmates. The Stilinski pack is fortunate in your Sorting.”_ He’d completely forgotten to do so but now, it made sense. He bumped shoulders with Scott who grinned at him. “You’re going to be an awesome Alpha, dude,” Stiles said, proudly.

“With a little help from my friends,” answered Scott, always honest.

Stiles phone beeped. He checked it as he walked. It was a text from Allison.

**”Wanna start report 2nite? Mom can drop me off in 20”** it said.

He typed back: **Sure, sounds great. I can give you a ride back later.”**

**Gr8. 10pm 2 L8?**

**10:00 o'clock is fine. See you soon.**

He told Scott, “Allison will be at the house in twenty minutes. We better boogie, or she might make it before we do…”

Scott stopped walking, and his eyes went big and round. “Oh, my god. Oh, my god, Stiles. I’m gonna… We’re gonna… Oh, my god… What if I suck? What if I hurt her? Oh, fuck! I can’t remember anything from sex-ed! What if I just, you know… before we even start? What if I can’t help wolfing out? What if it freaks her out? She lives with humans! What if she thinks I look weird as a wolf? Oh, god! What if…”

“Scott!” cried Stiles, punching him in the arm. “Oh my god _shut up_! You sound like me! She’s your _true mate_ your dork! She loves you, she’ll love wolfy you! She’s your perfect fit, you are her perfect partner. _Whatever_ you do, it will be exactly right! You know this!”

He unlocked the door to the jeep and threw his bag in the back.

“Oh.” Scott laughed with relief, shaking his head at his own freak out, and started walking to the passenger side. He got in and said, “Yeah, obviously. I can’t believe it, you know? I’m so… average. But Allison? She’s so sweet and lovely. How did I get so lucky? She’s really intelligent, too. Did you know she speaks French? Fluently! And she smell so good, like… roses. And I love her voice, so soft, and her laugh! Did you notice her dimples when she smiles?”

Stiles was speeding along his eyes on the road, trying to make good time without breaking the law. “Dude,” he teased, “go back to freaking out, it was less annoying.” 

Scott punched his arm. 

“Watch it, loverboy! I’m driving, here!” Stiles stopped for a light, and turned to smile at his friend. “She feels exactly the same about you, you know. And she’s right. She is one lucky girl, because you are the best guy I know.” The light changed. He grinned as he drove on . “Even I can see you two are _perfect_ for each other…”

A couple more turns, and they were home. “Aaaand, we’re here. Go upstairs and change your sheets, all right? I’ll get my books out, give it a little verisimilitude for when Allison shows up with Mommy Argent.”

“Hey, good idea.” Scott took the stairs two by two. Thank goodness he was kind of a neat freak about his room. It would take Stiles a couple of hours to make _his_ room presentable to anyone not his best friend… Stiles got himself a Mountain Dew out of the fridge, sat on the couch and got his laptop out, as well as Martian Chronicles, the Ray Bradbury book they were currently studying. This quarter was all about Science fiction. 

He was organizing his class notes when there was a knock on the door. They were still in his hand when he opened the door. “Hey Allison. Oh! Hello Mrs. Argent. I’m Stiles Stilinski.” He put his highlighter in his mouth, his note in his left hand and extended his right. “Nife to neet you,” he mumbled, around his marker. 

Allison’s mother shook his hand. Hers was icy cold and she had a strong grip. Her smile didn’t quite reach her cold blue eyes.

“Hello, Stiles. You are Sheriff Stilinski’s son, aren’t you?”

He took the pen out of his mouth. “Uh… Yes ma’m. My dad is still at work but…”

“Allison tells me you are human.” God, her narrowed-eye stare was chilling.

“Yep. All human, 100%. Human Stiles, that’s me!” he answered inanely.

The arctic queen raised an eyebrow. “And that your best friend, Lydia Martin, is human as well?”

Stiles figured both Scott and Lydia would be equally surprised to know Lydia was his _best friend_ , but hey, whatever made the scary lady currently staring him down happy…

“The only two humans in school since kindergarten!” he replied, not lying.

She nodded, as if he had made her point. “I expect Allison back home by ten, is that clear?”

“No problem there,” said Stiles, hoping he was managing a guileless expression. “That’s my curfew too. Melissa, my dad’s second, is a nurse and she’s human as well. She says teenagers need plenty of rest.” There. He’d managed to put one more human in the picture. That owe to make the Hunter lady happy.

“Your pack second is human?” Mrs. Argent asked, looking happily surprised.

Stiles nodded earnestly. “Our pack is fifty percent human,” he answered.

“Well, how nice,” Allison’s mom said, her smile perhaps a hair warmer. “Ten O’clock!”

“Yes, ma’m. Nice to meet you.”

Stiles closed the door and leaned against it, miming wiping his brow for Allison. The car door slammed, and they heard Mrs. Argent drive away.

“I’m so sorry, Stiles,” said Allison sincerely. “My family…”

“Don’t worry,” said Stiles, waving away her apology. “My family is totally strange too.” He lowered his voice, and added, confidentially, “For example, Scott? My brother from another mother? An absolute _weirdo_ , I swear…”

Allison burst out laughing.

Stiles grinned. “His room is upstairs, second door on the right,” he said. “I’d walk you up, but I’m going to be doing some serious literary research, _very serious stuff_ , right down here, so, nope, not going upstairs. Not me! Gonna be watching “Martian Chronicle”, 80’s version, with the awesome Rock Hudson. Loud-ly! With my headphones on!” 

He added jokingly, “My BFF Lydia Martin would _usually_ have been here with me, cause, you know, fused at the hip, we are, but she’s at home, busy sharpening her nails and trying out expressions in the mirror, hoping to learn to look as terrifying as your mother.”

When she stopped laughing, Allison said with her dimpled smile, “I can see why Scott loves you so much.”

She was at the bottom of the stairs when Scott appeared on top. They looked at each other. The way they felt was naked on their faces, and Stiles looked away, not wanted to intrude on that private moment. He pressed “Play” on his DVD player and turned up the sound inside his headphones. It was 5:30, he had four hours to kill. He concentrated on the movie.

He was writing a paper on the influence of the cold war on science fiction themes, music playing in his headphones, when there was a light tap on his shoulder. It was Allison, smiling at him. He panicked for a moment, then realized it was only 9:15 pm. Scott was standing a few feet away and was looking adoringly at her.

“Stiles taxi service,” he said getting his headphones off as he stood up. “Need a ride, pretty lady?”

“Please! We’ll be a little early, and I think it will bode well for future study dates,” Allison explained.

“Long term thinking. Very good. Let’s go!” He grabbed his wallet and keys, and slipped on his red hoodie.

Scott walked them to the front door and waved her off without even an extra hug or a kiss: They just smiled at each other, and she left with Stiles.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said gently, having noticed her fingernails digging into her palm when he buckled up. He started the car.

She bit her lip. “Leaving him is so hard… But we decided to start as we mean to go on. No PDA, ever.” She looked at Stiles with tears in her eyes. “I don’t think he realizes the danger I’ve put him in, put all of you in. But I love him, Stiles. I couldn’t just walk away.”

“Hey. You should have the right to choose how you live your life. We’ll figure something out. I understand the Hunters have their own code, their own way of life, but how can they feel superior to werewolves for not being driven by their instincts if they take away from you the freedom of choice they are so adamant is what separate men from beasts?”

She laughed a little hysterically. “Can you write that down so I can use it on my dad when he finds out? Or better yet, be there with me and tell him yourself?”

“Considering the heap of trouble my mouth constantly gets me in, I don’t think you really want that. You and Scott are mated now, right? The bond is consumed, the law’s on your side. I wish you guys could have had a big celebration, and everyone’s support, but at least, you have each other. And little me, I guess.”

“I don’t care that we didn’t have a party and a big wedding,” Allison said fiercely. “Our mating could never had been more meaningful or better than it was… It was… perfect.”

Stiles understood she just had to share that with someone, even if it made him a bit uncomfortable. He smiled at her, and she smiled back, blushing. Her eyes were shining and she looked so happy. 

“The Stilinski pack would be blessed to one day have you as its Alpha’s mate,” he said, falling back on the traditional phrase of welcome from a pack member to a future Alpha’s mate.

“The blessing is mine, to have such a mate,” she answered ritually. She smiled to herself, then reached over and squeezed his hand. “Thank you Stiles,” she said softly, “for giving me a chance to say that on my mating day.”

Stiles dropped her off in front of the large Argent mansion. The door opened when she was still halfway up the walk, and a man stood in the door, waiting for her. She turned back and waved, and the man nodded to Stiles. He was handsome but very intimidating, just as his wife had been. Shit, Charles was definitely right. Humans _were_ scarier than wolves.

Back at home, Stiles had to put up with Scott pretty much vibrating with the need to talk about what had happened. Stiles let him stew for a while, and finally, looked at his best friend and said, “So, I take it you didn’t suck at it?”

Scott grinned at him and the floodgates opened. ‘Too much information’ did not even _begin_ to cover it, but Stiles grinned and bore it, having promised himself to give his packmate the full night to get it off his chest.

By the time they went to sleep, Stiles knew more about Allison than he’d ever wanted to know, and he felt he’d just been cramming for his sex-ed exam, but it was worth it, to see Scott so happy.

At school in the morning, he was impressed by how detached Allison and Scott acted when the girls arrived together at Lydia’s locker and said “Hi” to them. Jackson and Danny were not far behind. Jackson walked to Stiles, and for once, there was no shoving or manhandling.

“Is your back all right?” Jackson mumbled to his feet.

“I’ll live, no thanks to you,” answered Stiles, warily waiting for the punchline.

Jackson flinched a little, but then looked up at Stiles and said, “It was reckless of me to jostle you, yesterday. Sometimes, I forget my own strength. I’ll make sure to be more careful from now on.” He paused, took a breath and cleared his throat. “And even though you are unable to play in the games, it benefits our whole team to have your accuracy to contend with while training.”

“OoooK,” said Stiles, eyebrows raised in surprise, in the following stunned silence.

“Why, listen to you, Jackson Whittemore!” said Lydia with a warm smile, “and here I was, starting to despair you’d ever be worth my time. What a pleasant surprise.” She kissed Jackson’s cheek. “Would you like to partner with me in chemistry, this morning?” she offered sweetly, as an obvious reward. They headed out to first period together, Jackson fingers gingerly touching the place she’d kissed. 

Stiles bumped shoulders with Scott and grinned, and felt himself blush a little when Danny winked at him. Danny was the main reason Stiles was pretty sure he was bisexual… He had starred _specifically_ in a few of the awesome dreams boys tended to get after puberty and from which they woke up with a wet belly and a smile on their faces. They’d been told in sex-ed that you actually got a lot more of those dreams after Sorting, and Stiles blushed even more wondering if Danny’s wet dreams ever featured _him_.


	7. Pink moon rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, Scott Sorted as an alpha, and found that Allison was his mate, but because her parents are hunters, they had to keep their mating under wraps. They did bond, wanting the law on their side, and Stiles was the only one who knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is a little late. RL interfeered. Sorry!  
> And yes, Derek makes an appearance!

Senior year was going by faster than Stiles would ever have thought. After a while, Allison had taken Lydia into her confidence, and now Lydia accompanied her often when she came over to Stiles’ house. Allison’s original fib became true, as Stiles and Lydia became friends. She was an awesome study partner and the Argents seemed delighted that their daughter spent so much time with her human classmates, dismissing Stiles werewolf packmate as the less academically minded Lacrosse player. 

School was a lot more pleasant now that Stiles did not have to put up with Jackson’s harassment. As predicted, Jackson had Sorted as an Alpha, with an impressive final SASSH of 21. Scott had surprised everyone by scoring a 20 ½ when tested after his Sorting Moon, gaining almost five points, where Danny’s score increase had been closer to the norm, bringing him to a final 18.

When the wolf moon came, Lydia, to her annoyance, Sorted as an alpha. She hated how her vermillion eyes clashed with her strawberry blond hair. Jackson, who had been invited to her Sorting, almost tripped over himself in his eagerness to announce that she was his mate. Despite her usual flippant attitude, Lydia’s face was suffused with love as she confirmed the mating. Both were kept from school until a grand celebration took place the following weekend, the Whittemore and Martin packs elated by the reinforced alliance. 

Lydia and Jackson returned to school after a week-long retreat at her pack’s lake house, and Lydia was accepted into the Whittemore pack as the future Alpha’s mate. It cracked their friends up that their mating seemed to have made not one iota of difference in the way Lydia and Jackson related to each other on a day-to-day basis. It seemed to Stiles that aside from not getting the beta turquoise eyes she would have preferred, Lydia’s vision of her future had been ridiculously accurate.

Though he was of course excited at the approach of the pink moon, Stiles was fairly relaxed about the outcome. As an alpha or beta, he would stay in the Stilinski pack, first under the leadership of his father, and eventually under that of Scott and his Alpha’s mate, Allison. He was, to be honest, more concerned about how those two were going to deal with their impossible situation than about his own Sorting.

Ever since Scott’s sorting, the Reyes, Stilinski and Boyd packs had been running together every full moon. Stiles knew it was partly for his protection, but he didn’t care; he enjoyed it. He liked Erica and Boyd very much (and was pretty sure they were future mates) and Jude, Terrence and Angelique, Boyd’s cousins and sister were really fun to hang out with, boisterous, outrageous, and irreverent. Vernon Senior, Gideon and John Stilinski had gone to school together, all three had payed baseball in high school and they were good friends. 

The four adult Reyes were quiet but nice. It had taken a while for Stiles to even learn Erica’s mom and Alpha’s name (Lynn). She was the only alpha in the Reyes pack. Her husband, Thierry, rarely said anything, but was utterly devoted to her, and Thierry’s mom and dad made up the pack.

The pink moon finally came. Stiles was the last of his group of friends to Sort, and they were all alphas, so there had been a lot of joking about whether he would follow the trend, and Sort an alpha as well, or be the odd one out and become a beta. As Lydia pointed out, statistically, the chances that all six of them should be alphas were ridiculously slim, though since Stiles was human, if they only took him into consideration, his chances were 50/50. 

The night of the full moon, both the Boyd and Reyes packs were waiting for the Stilinskis at the border between the Stilinski territory and the preserve and welcomed John, Scott and Stiles with smiles.

“Stiles,” said Lynn as soon as they entered the preserve. “It is an honor to share this pink moon run with you,” and Thierry nodded in agreement.

“Same here, Stiles,” said Vernon Senior. “I was Sorted on the pink moon as well. I am therefore doubly honored to run with you tonight.”

“It is an honor, Stiles,” added Guideon.

“I’m honored to have both the Reyes and the Boyd pack with us tonight,” Stile answered.

“I have ten bucks that say you’re an alpha, Stiles,” said Jude, “and so does Boyd.”

“Really?” said Stiles, cracking up.

“Yeah. Angie and I think you’ll have pretty blue eyes…” said Terrence.

“Have you people no respect for anything at all?” griped Vernon Senior.

“Vern’s got fifty bucks in the station pool that you’re an alpha, son”, said John, selling out his friend and laughing at him.

Vernon’s laughter at getting caught boomed in the night. 

“What about you, dad?” asked Stiles, curious.

John shook his head. “I didn’t enter. I really have no clue. And the pool is divided about 50/50.”

The full moon was reaching it’s apogee early that night, so Stiles said, philosophically, “We’ll know soon enough…” and took off at full speed, managing to pull about a hundred feet ahead before the others reacted and started chasing him. He laughed with them as they all caught up easily despite his efforts. Stiles kept running hard; they didn’t have much time even though they were heading to the closest clearing, due south, only a couple of miles from Hale territory. 

He was glad when he saw the small expense of grass lined with white firs and Jeffrey pines, because he felt as if his bones wanted to crawl out of his itchy skin. He slid to an inelegant stop on some fallen needles and bend down, his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath and calm his heart, which was racing and beating incredibly hard against his chest even though by now he was in good enough shape that the rather short run could not be the cause of it. He felt his father’s cool hand on his neck, but instead of being soothing and helpful, it was hideously uncomfortable, like a heavy yoke.

He brushed it off, and apologized, “Sor… Sorry, Dad, don’t…” He could hardly hear his father’s soothing words over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears, and his vision was going wonky. His body felt foreign, suddenly, and was overtaken by a deep shiver.

He stood upright again, stumbling a little, and looked in awe at a moon, which seemed to have grown so large it almost took over the sky. Its light rushed into him and filled his veins, cleansing, transforming, invigorating. His body arched toward the brilliant orb. He felt as if his body was being reorganized, each cell finally clicking into its proper, perfect place, so that he was himself still, yet strangely, _more so_. An inhuman cry ripped from his throat and filled the night, much longer than his lungs should have been able to sustain, the silver light of the moon saturating his mind. 

The moment passed and the night returned and he heard his own cry ending, realizing it had been a powerful, melodic howl. Far too many howls answered it for them to be only from his extended pack, and his skin moisten with cold sweat as his mind completely cleared. He looked to his father, shaken, nervous, and confused, only to see bewilderment in his Alpha’s crimson eyes.

He was momentarily distracted by Erica’s mother, who backed away from him so quickly she fell on her rump. Thierry helped her up, and she continued backing away. “You are a blessing to all of Wolfdom, Stiles Stinlinski”, she said, then she smiled, turned away and ran off, yelling “Sorry!”. Erica looked back at Stiles confusedly before catching up to her vanishing pack.

Stiles became aware that on his other side, Gideon and Vernon were pulling a roaring and fighting Jude away, and when Vernon growled, “Jude, simmer down! Back off and go home! Angelique, take your cousin away and don’t let him leave the house!” it had the power of the Alpha’s voice behind it, yet still Jude tried to fight Angelique’s grip until both Vernon and Gideon placed themselves between him and Stiles, roaring at Jude menacingly.

Stiles looked at his Alpha, utterly mystified. “Dad?”

John smiled at him, a warm and reassuring smile and came to him. He placed his hand on the back of Stiles’ neck, accepting his newly Sorted son into his pack, because the Alpha's bite traditionally bestowed on the newly Sorted was well known to be lethal to humans. Then, he hugged his son tightly, and announced to all, as was his duty, “Stiles Stilinski of the Stilinski pack is an omega. He is a blessing to all of Wolfdom.” Then he chuckled in Stiles hair and added, “Only you, Stiles…”

Stiles stepped back to look at his father. “I’m an _omega_?” he asked with disbelief. 

There _were_ no omegas. They were like, _one in a million_ , literally, Sorted once a century or so. They were a _myth_ , a _legend_ , not something anyone ever expected to be real.

“Yes, you are, Stiles,” confirmed Vernon Senior, with a concerned look. “A blessing to us all indeed, but son, we’ve got to get you home right quick.” 

“They’re already coming. I’m not sure which way to go,” admitted John worriedly. All of their hackles were up, and Scott was emitting a continuous low growl.

"Who's close?" asked Stiles growing nervous at his father's obvious concern.

“Call the Hales!” suggested Gideon, looking around worriedly. “They’re all mated!”

After nodding to each other, both Vernon and John let out three toned howls, discordant and uneasy, which asked for protection and help from the preeminent pack in the area. The answer was immediate, a mighty wolf cry that ripped through the night, promising help to them and blood to all that might mean them harm. Yet there were some noises in the nearby woods even Stiles could hear, much too early to be the Hales already. 

John, Scott, Gideon, Terrence and Boyd, their backs to Stiles, formed a close circle around him, all of them completely wolfed out.

“Stay away!” bellowed Vernon, his deep baritone resonating with Alpha power. John’s long and deep warning howl said the same, so strongly the branches of the trees around the clearing trembled. 

Still, several pairs of red eyes could be seen in the forest, circling them, closing in, the woods resonating with challenging growls and, despite the warnings, they were definitely moving closer. Stiles had never been so afraid in his life.

Then there were branches snapping, yelps and loud barks, followed by short howls as the surrounding shrubs parted, and they were suddenly surrounded by a veritable multitude of playful wolves. The tension immediately left the men around Stiles, who sighed in relief. Half a dozen magnificent wolves, including three black ones, one of which was truly enormous, made their way through the wolf pack to John Stilinski.

“Alpha Hale! Joshua, Peter, Michael, Laura, Derek,” greeted John, sounding very relieved. Stiles wondered how he could tell who was who. Scent, perhaps? “I am grateful to you for coming to our help. I just want to get my boy home safely.” He placed his hand on Stiles shoulder and pulled him forward a little. Stiles nodded to the wolves, unsure how to relate to them in this form.

All the wolves were scenting the air, and the largest black one got on two legs, his paws on Stiles shoulders, tall enough to look _down_ at him with beautiful, intelligent eyes. Stiles had to brace his knees so they wouldn’t buckle: That wolf weighed a ton. It’s cold nose sniffed under his ear and it let out a sound like a yowl. It dropped back down on all four, and wuffed and as one, they all started heading back towards the Stilinski’s land at an easy jog.

Scott came to run alongside Stiles. “Man, that was scary. There must have been at least twenty alphas out there, and they were coming for us.” He shivered. “It was like they were feral or something. I mean, you saw Jude! What the fuck? I don’t remember much about what they said about omegas in health class, do you?”

Stiles tried to think. Something about universal mates? He shrugged. “Not really, aside from the eye color. I’m just really glad the Hales got there when they did.” He turned to Scott, and flashed his eyes, something he now somehow just knew how to do. “Are my eyes really golden?”

Scott grinned. “Yeah, Dude. Glowing like melted gold. …They’re really beautiful,” he commented, earnestly.

“ _Beautiful?_ ” mocked Stiles.

“Fuck off. They are. And Bro, you smell really good, too. Like when you peel an orange.” Scott breathed in deeply. “Yeah. Smells really great.”

Stiles snorted. “Are you shitting me? I’m all sweaty and gross! Must be pheromones or something.”

Scott cracked up. “It’d be nice if your killer farts smelled like roses, now…”

“Asshole,” said Stiles, but he was smiling and could have sworn the huge black wolf next to him huffed amusedly.

As they reached the border between the preserve and the Stilinski territory, the wolf his father had recognized as Alpha Hale let out a couple of short barks. Most of her pack stopped and sat on their haunches. A dozen wolves, including the enormous black one that had run at Stiles side, stood at the limit of the territory, and the She-wolf turned questioningly to John.

“Members of the Hale pack are welcome into Stilinski territory”, he said, answering her unspoken question.

“Well, looks like you’re all right now. We’ll be heading home, John,” said Vernon Senior. “Call upon our pack if you need us. Anytime.”

“Thanks, Vern, Gideon, and you too, boys,” he added to Boyd and Terrence. “I’m _really_ glad you were with us,” John said, honestly.

“Glad we were there, too. I doubt another omega will Sort again in our lifetime, never mind being there to witness it… It was really something. ” The big man laughed. “I wonder if I’ll get my fifty bucks back, considering.”

After thanking the Hales, the Boyds ran off toward their land.

John slapped Stiles on the shoulder. “Let’s go home, son,” he said.

As usual, he and Scott let out short howls to let Melissa know they were coming home. As she had the night of Scott’s Sorting, she was waiting for them on the back porch with a welcoming smile, which changed to a worried frown when she saw the wolves escorting them.

“John! What happened? Why are the Hales with you?” She rushed to Stiles, running her hands along his arms checking him for injury. “Stiles, honey, are you OK?”

Stiles looked at her steadily through his newly acquired bright golden eyes. “Did you injure yourself, did you…” She looked a him, finally noticed, and let out a very uncharacteristic, “What the hell?” before covering her mouth and saying, “Sorry, sorry!” She stared at him. “Stiles, are you really an _omega_?”

“That’s what they tell me.” He shrugged helplessly.

She shook her head. “Only you, Stiles, I swear…”

”Hey, that’s what Dad said!” Stiles gripped, a little ticked off. “What do you guys mean, _only me_?” It’s not like he was a total freak or anything. Yeah, he was human, and clumsy, and had a big mouth…

She smiled warmly at him, her hand on his cheek. “You are a blessing to all of Wolfdom, Stiles Stilinski, as you are a blessing as a friend, as a son, as a packmate. That’s what I mean.” And she gave him a hug. His dad’s arms came around the both of them, as did Scott’s, and Stiles never wanted to let them go.

A deep woof behind them reminded them of more immediate concerns.

“Talia has left Derek and a few others to watch the house tonight, but we better get indoors, where Stiles scent will be contained,” explained John. “What do you remember of omega’s physiology?” he asked Melissa, as he held the door open and moved them all in. He stopped and looked at the wolf who now sat on the porch. “Thanks, Derek.” And louder, “Thank you, all of you. We really appreciate it.”

Just like she had for Scott’s Sorting, Melissa had made a cake, this one lemon-poppy seeds, Stiles’ favorite. “Sit down, all of you,” she said, popping the cork off the bubbly apple juice. “Thank goodness for the Hales,” she commented before pouring, shaking her head. “Gosh, I don’t remember much about omegas, just generalities. Omega pheromones smell like mate to alphas who do not have one, right? And they don’t have heats? Or are they in heat all the time? How does that go… The golden eyes, forced mating… Heck John. What do you remember?”

“Even less than you. I don’t know if I knew much in the first place. Let me tell you, this sorting was something to see. Stiles’ body just seemed to absorb the light of the moon and glow with it, and let out a howl that was so beautiful, it melted your heart. Then he looked at me with his golden eyes… I just could not believe what I was seeing. Lynn was smarter than me. She took one look at Stiles, figured it out and she was out of there.” He chuckled, “She might have held her breath all the way home! She and Thierry are not mates, just married, but they are really good together. Jude Boyd on the other hand was fighting his dad and uncle to get to Stiles, acting almost like he went feral. At least, Boyd, Terrence and Scott here all have mates. They were fine. I guess I’m fine because he’s my son, obviously, and you…”

Melissa smiled. “I love Stiles like a son too, John. Sometimes I forget he’s not mine…“

Scott bumped shoulders with Stiles, who was smiling.

“Just like I have two sons,” John said, ruffling Scott’s hair. “We need to know more. Who’s teaching health at school, these days?” he asked the boys.

“Alan Deaton, the mating counselor,” said Scott.

“Get me the school directory”, John asked Stiles.

They kept it with the phone book, in the kitchen drawer. “I could look for information about omegas on the internet, Dad,” mentioned Stiles, who didn’t like Mr. Deaton much.

“Son, omegas are pretty much a myth. God knows there’s probably as much bullcrap about them on the Internet as truth.” Stiles had to admit his dad had a point. 

John was running his finger down the list. “There. Deaton. There’s an emergency number…”

“Dad, it’s past midnight…” Stiles reminded him.

“Yes, son. That’s what ‘emergency’ numbers are for: Emergencies outside of regular office hours.”

“But…”

“Shh… it’s ringi… Ah, yes, hello Mr. Deaton. This is Sheriff Stilinski. Yes, sir, my boy Sorted tonight, that’s why I’m calling you… He’s an omega… Yes, that’s right, brilliant gold… Uhu, that’s exactly what we all said…” He mouthed: “Only Stiles…” and grinned. “Yes… Yep, pretty much… Yes, we have some of the Hales standing guard, and I _do_ have a loaded gun… Hmm. Hadn’t thought of that. Sounds like a good idea. Thanks… Great, see you then.” He hung up and ran his hands on his face.

“Thank god it’s Friday and we all have the day off tomorrow. He’s coming over.”

“What, now?” asked Stiles.

“Yes. I’m afraid so. He also offered to call the Argents in the morning. They’re Hunters, and they have a stash of mountain ash. He think they’ll have enough to circle our whole territory with, leaving only a path to the front door unprotected, freeing the Hales from guard duty. Good thinking, that.”

“The Hunters would do that, to help us?” ask Scott.

“Chris Argent will. He’s a good guy. He, Peter Hale and I have worked together before, both before the Argents left the township, and since they’ve been back, going after one weird supernatural creature or another. Peter Hale and Chris were in school together. They’re close friends. Hunters can be difficult to deal with, but they also have their place. They are really well trained, and amazingly fearless, considering they are human. They have a very good intelligence network, are not hindered by pack loyalties, and they have more experience than anyone else. I don’t like their beliefs, but as long as they follow their code, I say, “Live and let live.”

“They think werewolves are not much better than animals, dad,” said Stiles.

“Not quite, and not all of them. But they do think our instinctual drives weaken us. Then again, there are werewolves out there who think humans are inferior, because they don’t have our gifts. There are idiots everywhere, son. They’re only dangerous if they’re fanatics, and thank god, there are only a handful of those on each side. I better let Derek Hale know Alan Deaton’s coming. Deaton’s a beta, but we all know how protective the Hales get when it comes to… “ John stopped suddenly. “Aaaanyway. I think I’ll make some coffee.” 

He left for the kitchen and Stiles and Scott looked at each other, then at Melissa. “Mom, what was he going to say about the Hales?” asked Scott.

Melissa took a bite of cake and smiled innocently. “I’m sure I don’t know, sweetheart,” she said.

“Oh, my god! You’re lying!” said Scott, outraged.

“About what?” she asked, fooling no one.

“About…”

There was a knock on the front door. She grinned at Scott as she said, “Oops, I’d better get that!”

She went to the door as Scott shook his head, disgusted. Stiles grinned. He’d learned a long time ago that the werewolves’ ability to tell when somebody was lying was not worth much if one was determined not to answer their questions. It was fun watching another human dodging them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos! Please, feel free to leave comments if you feel so incline. Who doesn't like comments?


	8. So, what now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: So... Stiles is an omega. For whatever reason, his Alpha feels it is dangerous enough that he needs to call the Hales for help getting Stiles home safely. John also feels it's reason enough to get Mr. Deaton, the school's health teacher and mating counselor out of bed and over to Stilinski house ASAP...

Alan Deaton walked in, his wise and zen aura as annoying to Stiles as ever. He always acted as if he was all knowing, and dispensed information as parsimoniously as possible. Trying to get a straight answer out of him was way harder than it should be, considering he was one of their teachers.

“Stiles, you are a blessing to whole of Wolfdom,” he said, looking as if he’d been expecting Stiles to be an omega all along. Funny. He had not always thought Stiles was a blessing. Stiles seemed to remember several detentions sophomore year, when he asked more questions in health class than Deaton thought necessary.

“And you’re here to tell me exactly why that is,” Stiles answered.

“Indeed, though each one of us is a blessing, in his or her own way, don’t you think?” pondered Deaton, with one of his patented paternalistic smiles and Stiles already wanted to brain him.

Deaton sat at the head of the dining room table, accepted a cup of coffee from John, added a perfectly measured teaspoon of sugar and a carefully poured dash of milk before he looked up and surveyed his audience. He was just opening his mouth when John got up and said, “Excuse me a second,” and left the room, coming back immediately. “Had to turn off the coffee machine,” he explained.

Deaton smiled benignly, stirred his coffee, took a sip, and once again made sure he had all their attention before he started. He breathed in, in preparation for his first word, and like a spring, John was out of his chair again, interrupting him: “Oops. Just a sec. Be right back,” once again ruining Deaton’s carefully established stage setting.

Suddenly realizing what is father was on about, Stiles had a hard time stopping himself laughing. John, obviously, had no intention of putting up with Deaton’s subtle but effective ways of dominating the conversation, and was letting him know he was not the only one who understood basic psychology.

John came back, rubbing his hands. He sat down and said, “All right. Well, I’m ready. Stiles, are you ready? Melissa? Scott? Yes, I think we’re all ready. Ready, Mr. Deaton? So, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

With a sigh, Deaton acknowledged defeat and started talking, without theatrics this time. “We do not tell much to students about omegas in health class, because they have enough to learn as it is, and omegas are so rare it would be pointless to go into details. However, the study of omegas is extensive in the training of mating counselors, not because it is thought any of us we will _ever_ have to deal with one, but because the omegas’ pheromones and their chemistry, and the omegas' mating abilities as it relates to unmated alphas, are so complex, that once we grasp those, all other mating relationships are easily understood. It is actually pretty thrilling to get to put all this theoretical learning to use, to tell you the truth,” Deaton admitted.

“The omega reported sorting rate is about one per nine million, or one every century or so. It is believed to be grossly underestimated and probably actually about ten times that. Why? Because, for obvious reasons, most go unreported.

“In some countries, where society is guided by different ethics, omegas are seen as a commodity. They are mated where it will bring the most benefit to their Alpha, or sold to the highest bidder if their packs have pressing material needs. 

“Even here, in this country, if a young person Sorts as an omega in an isolated pack, which also happens to have an unmated alpha, it makes sense for the two to be mated, keeping the benefits of having an omega packmate within its own native pack.

“Still. Omegas are exceedingly rare. And precious. Now, as to why…”

Even Stiles forgave Deaton his pause for a sip of coffee. He had been very forthcoming with information so far, after all.

“Before any of us are sorted, I think we all hope to be one of the lucky few who, that day, become aware that they have a mate. We all dream of someone we will love in every way, who will love us back completely and unconditionally. We all know mated couples, and see the reality of such perfect relationships for ourselves. True mates together are a beautiful thing, sadly one that only about 15% of the population will ever experience. Most of these lucky few are alphas, but even then, only 43% of all who Sort as alphas actually have mates. The majority of Sorted alphas are unmated.

“An omega is the chance for one of these unmated alphas to experience having a true mate after all. Upon consuming the mating bond, an omega and an alpha will become as compatible as any Sorted true mates. How is it possible? In two ways.

“Omega, by nature, have an unerring ability to only fall in love once, with the unmated alpha who is their perfect partner. This is what our society has decided a long time ago is the most ethical way to choose a mate for an omega. They are given the chance to meet their one perfect mate, to fall in love, and when ready, to consume the bond.

“The second way is a lot less in favor of the omega, but also, much more common throughout the world: It is a forced bonding. An unmated alpha bonds with the omega by bringing him or her to orgasm, often against his or her will. The omega then changes and adapts to become what _that_ alpha’s perfect mate actually is.

“Both case scenarios end with a perfect pairing. However, in the first case, when the omega falls in love, both mates keep their personalities and remain themselves. In the second case, at best, the omega’s personality and looks might undergo minimum adjustments, if the alpha they bonded with knew and liked them to begin with. At worst, the omega, as he or she was before, might completely disappear. Nothing is safe from change. A male omega with blue eyes and a gift for music could become a green eyed female who thinks only of breeding. A human might become a werewolf, and a werewolf a human. The omega might even become completely unrecognizable to his own friends and family and care nothing for them, nor even remembering them.

“This, Stiles, is what your father, your pack and the Hales outside are protecting you from.” 

Wow.

Deaton looked genuinely concerned. Perhaps he was not as much of a dick as Stiles had always thought… Deaton added, “And you need protection, especially during the full moon. As soon as you Sorted, your pheromones went into overdrive, calling powerfully to any unmated alpha around. Left to their own devices, on this night, their wolves could take over and fight each other until the winner claimed you, willingly or not. A mature unmated alpha werewolf, a well trained one, or a profoundly ethical one should be able to ignore the appeal of your scent, but it is best not to count on that…”

Stiles shivered in delayed terror as he thought of the circling red eyes in the forest. He suddenly found new respect for Erica’s mother and felt a wave of true gratefulness for his father and his friends, who had been prepared to fight to save him from being raped by whichever unmated alpha overwhelmed all the other contenders, and from therefor losing who he was to become that alpha’s perfect mate. 

Deaton finished his coffee while Stiles silently freaked out. Then, he went on. “Outside of the full moon, unmated alpha will simply be extremely attracted to you, Stiles, eager for your attention and trying to please you. The happy side to this is that, thanks to your pheromones, they are attracted, and seduced, by who you _actually_ are, and therefore, if they spend enough time outside the full moon in contact with you, getting to know you, they will grow to love you, as you are, and were you to mate with them, you might remain _mostly_ the Stiles we all know and love. Still, only by falling in love _yourself_ can you be sure to remain totally who you are.” Deaton smiled benignly.

“So, if Stiles is safe now that the moon has set, why are the Hales still there? Why are we planning to spread mountain ash around our land?” asked Scott, and that… was a very good point.

“Yes, well… It is said that an alpha, mated to an omega, will see his or her SASSH score increased by as many as four points. So an alpha, mated to an omega, is practically guaranteed to become powerful enough to be his or her pack’s next Alpha.

“In addition, if it is a heterosexual mating, the female of the couple will be constantly fertile and could bear as many as one child per year until she reaches menopause. And since, as you know, the heat of a mated Alpha or its Alpha’s mate drives the heat of all other mated females in the pack, that amazing reproductive ability is extended to every mated female in the pack…

“Even in the case of a homosexual mating with an Alpha, the omega will remain in constant heat, meaning infinite sexual rewards to his or her mate, and constant fertility for other mated pairs in the pack…

“These two benefits, the increased SASSH and the constant fertility, added to the attraction of having a true mate, a perfect match, an ideal partner, might override a lot of unmated alpha’s good sense, and unmated alphas make up 57% of the alpha population. Even outside the full moon, Stiles is at risk of a forced mating with an unscrupulous individual. Left without protection, he could be raped at any time.”

Stiles was horrified. “Are you kidding me? Someone is always going to have to be watching over me! How in the world am I suppose to live a normal life if that’s the case?”

Both Deaton and Stiles' dad looked stern, while Melissa just looked really sad.

“I’m not, am I, going to have a normal life… Nothing is ever going to be the same, is it?” asked stiles, suddenly realizing the truth.

“No, Stiles, I’m sorry. It’s not,” said Deaton. And fuck, even that sanctimonious dick actually looked sorry.

Scott was frowning, hating the idea that his best friend might be unhappy. “Well, school will be OK, right?” he finally said. “Think about it. Only the seniors are sorted, and not that many are alphas. All our alpha friends have mates: Danny, Boyd, Lydia, Douchebag, Alli… all of us, I mean. We can hope that teachers who may be unmated alphas will be able to control themselves, and it would be pretty bold for someone from outside the school to try to get to you in front of the whole student body… John can ride you there and back, with me and Boyd along to help, or Allison Argent, even. You study with her all the time, and she’s a Hunter. You heard John, they can kick ass.

“At home, you’ll be safe. For study dates, Allison and Lydia always come here, pretty much, and we can watch movies and stuff as easily here as we do at Danny’s or wherever, when we get together.”

Stiles smiled at Scott, though his heart wasn’t really in it. “Thanks, buddy. You’re right. School should be fine. Right?” he asked the adults.

“… Yes,” said John, because what else was Stiles to do? Be a prisoner in his own home? “Yes, as long as you’re with others that you know and trust at all time. Mr. Deaton and I can go through the staff list so we can warn those who might find it difficult to deal with your presence. I will have to escort you, there and back, I’m sorry about that. But son, you’ll be spending most of your free time at home from now on I’m afraid…”

“I agree that it will be probably all right until Stiles graduate, but then what?” Deaton pointed out. “This is not a good long-term solution, Sheriff, obviously. That Stiles should fall in love should be our ultimate goal… The sooner Stiles is mated, the sooner he will recover his freedom.” 

“Uh… How am I suppose to ‘fall in love’ on command, Mr. Deaton?” Stiles protested. “I just Sorted tonight! I don’t even know what love means! And how am I suppose to meet someone with whom to fall in love if it’s only safe for me to be around people I can’t mate with?”

“A conundrum,” said Scott under his breath. Stiles cracked up. It had been the word of the day on Scott’s day-timer a couple of weeks back.

“At least I’ll be helping you improve your vocabulary,” Stiles joked.

Scott grinned. “Yeah. The silver lining. I knew this wasn’t all bleak!”

“You’re joking,” said Melissa, “but it might not hurt for us to keep in mind that there is a silver lining…” She reached for Stiles’ hand. “Stiles, it might take time, but eventually, you will find your true mate, love him or her deeply and be loved in return. You will be surrounded by children, perhaps yours, perhaps those of others, but regardless, your pack will be incredibly lucky to have you... Hey! What is your sexual orientation?”

Stiles had not even had time to wonder about that. He gave it some thought. Danny was very attractive, as, (yuck-a-dee-yuck!!) was Jackson. But so was Erica. And Lydia, sheesh! Lydia was a goddess… “I’m bisexual,” he announced.

“That’s good,” said Scott, nodding and smiling. “Right? Twice as many people to choose from!”

“Yeah,” agreed Stiles, refusing to consider how it could be a negative as well. “I’ll find my mate twice as fast.” He knew that was bullshit, but it made Scott smile happily.

Neither Deaton nor his dad seemed to be cheered by all the positivity. Stiles was not an idiot. There was a lot to worry about. But he could choose to hate what he was, or try to make the best of it. He’d only been Sorted… two and a half hours, and was due a fucking celebration, not a wake.

“Looking at both your faces, I don’t really feel like a blessing to all of Wolfdom,” Stiles said flippantly to them. “More like I might as well give up hope now, take off my clothes and go run around naked in the preserve until natural selection takes its course. I guess I’ll just have another slice of lemon-poppy seeds cake _while I’m still the person who likes it_ , and then get out there, be the prize in an unmated alpha show down, get raped, and get it over with, shall I?”

“Stiles, don't make light of this!” snapped John, angrily. Then he looked at his son, his beautiful boy who had gone out that night, expecting to come back being able to flash either blue or red eyes, knowing it wouldn’t make much difference because he loved his Alpha, and his future Alpha, and he had no intention of challenging either one. He was suppose to figure out if he liked boys, or girls, or both, and know deep in his heart if there was someone out there made just for him. 

Instead, he was faced with some terrifying unknown, which had, in one moment, changed his life forever. John shook his head. “I’m sorry, son. I’m so concern about logistics I’m forgetting the important things. Melissa is right! So much good will come of this. No matter what it takes, we will wait for your heart to guide you, and we will be there to watch you bring love, and joy, and strength to your pack. As far as I’m concerned, you have always been a blessing: to me, your mom, your packmates and to so many others… We’ll figure out how to make this work, I’m sure. For now, let’s celebrate your amazing destiny.”

“Yes,” agreed Deaton. “And the good news is that, though it may take as long as ten years for other mated people to meet their true mates, historically, omegas given the freedom to do so have always met the person they fall in love with within a year of their sorting.”

Well, that was something. Stiles would not have to wait for his mate forever…

John raised his glass. “To my son, one in a million, more or less. And I have the statistics to back that up!”

Melissa, smiling at John before looking at Stiles, raised her glass. “To Stiles, who now has eyes of gold, to match his heart.”

Scott grinned and raised his. “To my brother from another mother. Only you, man...”

Stiles cracked up.

Alan Deaton poured more coffee in his cup from the carafe, raised it, and surprisingly, smirked. “To Stiles, for making me feel better about having to memorize _the one hundred and forty six chemical components_ of the so-called omega ‘chameleon pheromone’ for a mid-term, the day after my 21nd birthday, when I had a really terrible headache from smoking too much hashbane…”

Stiles and Scott looked at each other with round eyes and burst out laughing. They all drank, and Stiles was glad to note his father was chuckling too, concerns forgotten for a moment.

“Well,” Stiles said, “On this happy note, I think I’m going to go to bed now. Maybe in the morning I’ll wake up from all this and realize it was the weirdest dream _ever_. Good night.” And if not, he thought, things might at least look a little less daunting in the morning.


	9. Manipulating the situation, Allison style.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Stiles discovered he was an omega, a one in a million Sorting. He learned what it meant, and the positive and negative repercussions of being special. He went to bed, too tired to really process the significance of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this AU, anyone, including werewolves themselves, can lay down a mountain ash barrier, which, as long as it is an unbroken loop, will be uncrossable/untouchable by werewolves once completed. No "Spark" necessary. Humans can cross it, and they are the only ones who can break it. It can be reformed, simply by closing the gap in the loop with ash.

Stiles woke up to Scott shaking his shoulder.

“Stiles! Stiles! Get up!”

“Wassup?” asked Stiles, stretching, still mostly asleep.

“Chris Argent's here. He’s talking to John on the front porch. And Allison’s waiting for him by the car, in front. She texted me, and said to go out the back door and sneak around to meet her out there. She’s got a plan on how to make it OK for us to be together.”

Finally. It was about time things came to a head. Scott and Allison had been bonded for like, months… “Why’s Chris Argent here?” stiles asked, grabbing yesterday's clothes off the floor and hastingly getting dressed.

“The mountain ash?” said Scott, looking at him like he was an idiot. 

The previous night’s events rushed back. “Oh, shit. Right. A fucking omega! What the fuck, Scott? And things were going so well, too…”

“Yeah, well, shit happens, dude. Hurry up!”

Stiles smiled. Count on Scott to sum things up perfectly and put them into perspective. 

They went down the stairs as quietly as possible, skipping the squeaky ones, went through the kitchen and snuck out the back door, holding back the screen so it wouldn’t slam as it closed. Trying to be inconspicuous, they made their way around the house to the front, fairly well hidden by the shrubbery along the driveway. 

Allison was waiting at the curb, leaning against her dad’s SUV, some lethal looking crossbow in her hands, arrow notched. Unless Stiles was mistaken, from the way Scott scrunched up his nose, the arrow's tip was dipped in wolfsbane.

“Gee, Allison, what’s with the heavy artillery?” asked Stiles in a low voice, so his dad would not hear him from the front porch.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I may want to seize this opportunity to solve Scott and my problem, Stiles, but not at the cost of putting you in danger. You really shouldn’t be out in the open unprotected, you know?” she answered, speaking just as quietly.

Ohh. Right. Impressed, Scott looked at Allison with hearts in his eyes, and Stiles totally seconded that opinion, in a less cavity inducing way. She really was awesome.

A lean grey wolf with bright blue eyes trotted toward them, approaching the way the boys had come. Stiles expected it to fuss and try to get him back to the house, but instead, after looking towards the two men on the porch, it sat on its haunches, with what could have passed for a grin on its wolfy face, and hung back, pretty unnoticeable amongst the shrubbery.

Allison gave him a knowing narrowed eye look. “Hello, Peter,“ she said with a sigh. Then, ignoring him, she asked, ”Scott. What are they saying?” 

Scott made a face. “Well, earlier your dad told John that you are unmated and to make sure to keep Stiles away from you, and John told him that if Chris didn’t want you to be near Stiles, that was his problem, and not John’s responsibility. Then Chris said you were engaged to be married, so that he was saying that as much for Stiles’ as for your benefit. John told him that as far as he knew, Hunters reached their majority as the same age as any other kids, and that as far as he was concerned, you two were old enough to make your own decisions.”

“Jeez! Tense, much? I thought Dad liked Mr. Argent!” said Stiles. 

Scott listened again for a while and reported, “It’s getting worse. Now, your dad, Allison, pointed out that he was doing Stiles’ dad a favor by bringing him pretty much his entire stash of mountain ash so he expected a little support in return.” He looked worried. “Uh-oh… John is saying that as far as he’s concerned, the township has already done the Argents a hell of a favor by allowing them to move back after that murdering bitch…”

“OK,” said Allison, making panicky motions with her hands. “Uh… Laugh. Both of you, just laugh really loud as if I just said the funniest thing in the world!”

They did. At first it was a little forced, but Stiles thought Scott’s fake laugh was so piss-poor he actually started laughing at him, and it might have been true in reverse, because soon enough, all three were actually laughing their heads off. It took about two seconds and both Mr. Argent and Stiles’ dad were at their side.

“Stiles,” said Allison, with a “boys are gross” expression on her face, “you are so awful!” She shook her head with a rueful smile. “Oh, my god! Why do I even hang out with you!”

“’Cause you feel sorry for me?” answered Stiles, grinning, hoping his acting was as good as hers.

“Must be it, you dork…” she said, chuckling.

“Well,” remarked John to Chris. “That certainly doesn’t sound or look like uncontrollable lust. Looks like your daughter is pretty resistant to the omega’s thrall…”

“Pfft! Enthralled by Stiles?” Allison laughed. “Nah. That’s not happening.”

“Hey!” said Stiles. “Admit it, you adore me, even if my omega mojo can’t work on you.”

“I _tolerate_ you,” she teased, then to John, “And of course, I can’t be affected by Stiles being an omega, sheriff. _I have a mate._ ”

“You _what?_ ” cried her dad, aghast. “Allison, damnit! Why didn’t you tell us? You know that if you have a mate we need to send you to France as soon as possible!”

She shrugged. “I just didn’t want my school year to be interrupted by moving again, Dad.”

“What are you talking about? You were Sorted before this school year even began!”

“Yes, I was. But I didn’t _meet_ my mate until _after_ it started,” she explained innocently, as if she wasn’t dropping a huge bomb on her father.

Chris looked at her as if she was insane. “But Stiles Stilinski is an omega! Lydia Martin is mated to the Whittemore boy, and they are the only two humans in your school!”

“That’s right,” confirmed Allison calmly. “My mate’s a werewolf.”

“You are out of your mind?” cried her father. “You need to leave! Now! You do realize what’s going to happen when that boy is Sorted, don't you?”

“Dad, my mate _was already_ Sorted. We’ve been bonded for _months_." She grabbed her dad's hand. "I love being a Hunter. I believe in what we do. But I refuse to give up my personal happiness to follow our ridiculous antiquated rules.”

“Allison,” Chris Argent pulled his hand from her grasp and opened the passenger door of the SUV. “Get in the car.”

“Hm. I’m sorry Chris,” John said, pushing the car door closed again, “I don’t think your daughter chose to give you that important bit of news in front of the township’s sheriff just for laughs. She said she and her mate are bonded. It would be against the law, which I am sworn to uphold, for you to even attempt to separate them now, and I am very concerned you might try to do it anyway if she went home with you now.”

Chris pleaded with his daughter. “Allison, you need to speak to our Alpha about this!”

“Dad, you know full well Hunters _never_ take werewolves into their family," Allison remarked. "Yet, mates _always_ share a pack, don't they. So, when my mate and I consumed the bond, I de facto left our family and became a member of _his_ pack. Mom’s still my mom, and I love her, but she is no longer my Alpha. She no longer has authority over me.”

She added, her voice cold. “Also, I believe Sheriff Stilinski might find it extremely suspicious should _anything_ happen to my mate. And I _still_ would remain a member of my mates’ pack, out of our family’s reach, forever.”

Chris looked as his daughter, shaking is head. He looked torn between exasperation and admiration. He finally sighed and conceded, “That was masterfully played Allison. _This_ is why we train our sons to be soldiers, but our daughters to be leaders. Nevertheless, your mother will want to speak to you, Honey. Are you still going to spend the night at Lydia Martin’s?”

Allison looked torn. 

John Stilinski jumped in. “Allison, I am sure you are eager to be with your mate, but it sounds like you have managed to live apart from him for some time. It might ease the situation with your family a little if you stayed here at Stilinski house for a while. Your mother is welcome to come and speak to you here. It might be easier for her to do so in neutral territory, so to speak. Also, should you and she disagree, I can make sure the law is upheld… I do not feel it would be fair to expect the Martin pack to deal with whatever conflict may arise.” He smiled at her. “You and Stiles are good friends. He might appreciate having you around as well since his social life is going to be seriously curtailed…”

Allison smiled her dimpled smile at John. “Thanks, sheriff. I’d like that.” She grabbed an overnight bag from the back seat, a bag that seemed suspiciously heavy for having originally been packed with only a sleepover at her girlfriend’s in mind. Scott held out his hand and she passed it to him gratefully.

“I’m sure my wife will be coming to talk to Allison,” Chris said. “I appreciate you doing this, John. We may have no choice but to accept what is, but…”

“Yeah,” said John. “Kids!” There was a look of deep understanding between the fathers.

Chris Argent walked to the back of the car and removed a basic wheeled chalk-line marker from his trunk. “I filled it with enough mountain ash for about a five hundred meter line. You should have plenty,” he said to the sheriff.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“I would stay and help you with it,” Chris said, “but I really need to talk to my Alpha.”

They grey wolf walked out of the bushes, and sat in the middle of the walkway to the front door.

“Peter,” greeted John.

“Oh. Hi, Hale. Well, with Peter Hale and my daughter here, your son should be fine while you work, I think. Still, let’s do a quick circle around the house before I go and before you leave to circle your whole territory,” he suggested. “You have enough ash here for that, and I can show you where the marker sometimes gums up if the ground is too wet.”

“Good thinking,” said the sheriff. “You three go inside, and stay inside. See you in a minute.”

Allison kissed her dad on the cheek, and he grabbed her in a tight hug. “Good bye, Princess.”

“Good bye, Daddy. I love you.”

“I love you too. And so does your mom. Don’t ever doubt that. Now, go on. Watch over your friend, OK? Make us proud.”

Allison nodded, biting her lips, and turned away quickly. The grey wolf herded the three of them to the front door and took position at the top of the stairs, as the two men started walking the wheeled chalk-line marker along the beds around the house.

As soon as the door closed, Allison ran into in Scott’s arms. “Oh, my god! I did it!”

Scott held her tight. “You were incredible!” he said.

“Uh… Guys?” Stiles hated to interrupt, but first of all, Allison was still holding the loaded crossbow, and well, was that really a safe way to handle a lethal weapon? And also, “Guys! I’m glad it worked out and everything, but I’m not leaving my dad in the dark.”

The other two backed away from each other a little and looked a bit sheepish.

“You’ve put him in a really bad position here,” said Stiles, frownning. “I know you need to be with each other, but it isn’t right.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” said Allison. “I was actually planning going to go to Lydia’s, but when he offered!”

“Yeah, I get that. But you got to tell him. Please. Or I will.”

Scott and Allison looked at each other. “You’re right. I will,” said Scott. He opened the front door to see out, waiting for the two men to reappear on the far side of the house. The grey wolf on the porch sniffed the air, and _actually_ rolled his eyes, before giving Allison a chastising glare.

“Shut up,” Allison answered the mute rebuke. “We’re going to tell him.”

The wolf huffed and lay down, his head on his paw.

“How can a wolf look so judgmental?” wondered Stiles.

“Peter Hale could look judgmental as a bunny-rabbit,” Allison replied. “It’s a gift.”

The wolf shoulders shook. Was he actually chuckling?

The men reappeared, and John walked Chris to his car and shook his hand before Chris waved to his daughter, got in, and drove off.

“Uh… John. Can I talk to you for a sec?” asked Scott, as John prepared to close the mountain ash circle around the house by walking from one side of the porch to the other.

“The sooner I get this done around our territory the better, Scott. Can it wait?”

Scott hesitated.

“No, Dad. It can’t wait,” said Stiles, punching Scott’s arm, none too softly.

“Yeah. Right,” said Scott. “It’s kind of important.”

Muttering under his breath, the sheriff leaned the marker against the porch and climbed the stair. He closed the door behind him and looked at the three teenagers, hands on his hips. 

“So, what is it?” he asked, impatiently.

All three just kind of stood there, looking at each other.

“Stiles?” asked John.

Stiles sent Scott the look that kills and said, “Scott?” in the exact same tone.

“Uh... WeshouldhaveprobablytoldyouthatI’mAllisonsmate,” mumbled Scott.

The sheriff raised his eyebrows. “What?”

Scott took a deep breath and manned up. “Ahem. John, I’m Allison’s mate. We bonded the day after my sorting.”

John closed his eyes and took deep breath. He turned to Stiles. “You knew about this?” 

Stiles shrugged apologetically. The sheriff ran a hand over his face. “You boys are trying to kill me, aren’t you.” It was not even a question.

John looked up at Allison. “You, young lady, are a dangerous woman, and I’m not only talking about that crossbow, which, really, should you be brandishing that thing around indoors? Put it down, for heaven’s sake.”

Allison quickly put the safety on and placed the crossbow on the coffee table within her reach. 

“I appreciate the thought Allison, thank you,” said the sheriff, knowing why she had the weapon out in the first place. “But you have put me in a very awkward position. I as good as lied to your father. I’m not happy about that. Not happy at all.”

She nodded. John Stilinski scratched his neck. “Six months?” He looked back and forth between Scott and Allison, who stood in front of him, holding hands. Allison nodded. 

“Six months!” John shook his head. “You poor kids. How did you manage it?”

They both recognized it was a rhetorical question. He dropped more than sat into his usual recliner and said, “Sit down, all of you. I need to think.” He asked Scott, “What time is your mom back today?” 

Melissa had asked for the day off but had only been able to manage a shorter shift at the hospital.

“11:00.” 

“Thank god,” John said. Stiles wasn’t sure if he needed the support of his second, or simply the presence of the woman he loved. He hated to see his dad looking so at a loss. 

There was a short bark-like sound from the wolf on the porch. Allison had her crossbow armed and ready just as fast as John had his gun out. Then there was a scratch on the door. John checked through the window that Peter was alone out there and opened the door cautiously.

The wolf just sat there, looking at him.

“Peter?” asked John. “What…”

The wolf sighed and shifted, and a well-built, handsome _naked_ man just stood in his place, unashamed, rolling his eyes exactly as the wolf had done earlier.

“For fuck’s sakes, John. Call Talia! Have her send someone to pick the girl up. She’ll still be protected _and_ in neutral territory. And really, would it kill you to put a bowl of water out here?” They had a flash of a shapely ass as he turned around and stepped back out, before it was replaced by a wolf’s rump with a handsome grey tail. He took position again at the top of the stairs.

John closed the door, chuckling. He put his gun back in its holster and said, “Stiles, get me the phone. Scott, get some water out there.” He grinned. “Use Melissa’s crystal trifle bowl, will you? And put a slice of lemon on the rim.”


	10. Dichotomy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, Allison used Stiles' newly discovered omega status to reveal her bond to Scott in a way that will protect her and her mate from Hunters' interference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited a lot after beta, and did not send it back for corrections. So if any mistakes remain, they are all mine. I deeply apologize!

It was really nice that both John and Melissa were home the entire weekend. It only happened once in a blue moon, and they all usually really enjoyed these rare occasions when the whole pack got to spend uninterrupted time together. Yet, it was a good thing both Scott and Stiles had a ton of homework to do because it would have been easy for both of them to just mope around.

Stiles was able to go out and had the freedom of walking around their property since a double line of mountain ash now surrounded the Stilinski territory, (John never did things halfway), but considering that the ash lines kind of reminded him why they were necessary in the first place, it didn't really help him escape the awareness of his new reality, which was threatening to overwhelm him.

The parallel ash lines joined together into one to cross the front walkway. Melissa or Stiles had to be there to break that line for anyone to enter or to leave the property. Stiles had had to break the original line at the bottom of the porch for his dad to enter his own house. (Stiles had a feeling that this whole thing was going get old really quickly.)

Within an hour of John’s call to the Hales, a black Camaro had parked at the curb. John and wolf-Peter had walked Allison out. Allison had broken the mountain ash line, the wolf had got in the back seat, she’d closed the circle back up with a handful of ash, gotten in the front seat, and they’d been off.

So now Scott was almost as depressed as Stiles.

 

By the time Monday rolled around and they had to sit in the back of the cruiser for their ride to school (with John driving and Vernon senior _literally_ riding shot-gun), they were both so glad to get out they almost didn’t care how stupid it looked.

Stiles did roll his eyes when the sheriff and his deputy walked him _all the way to the school’s door._

“Daaad,” he complained.

“Be glad you’re even here,” John said, and that shut him up.

Stiles felt even worse when they came in with him and walked him to what was apparently an emergency assembly. To his utter dismay, Stiles got to sit on the dais, between the two cops. He hid his face in his hands as Scott laughed his way to the first row of bleachers.

Though Principal Taylor was the one who called for the students’ attention, he didn't say anything, just passing the mike to Counselor Deaton.

“At the last moon,” said Deaton, “your schoolmate Stiles Stilinski Sorted as an omega.”

After a few moments of silence, there was a sudden uproar, all the students speaking at once, hands going up with questions and comments yelled out. Deaton taped on the mike repeatedly, the sound louder and louder, until the reverb had all the wolves cringing.

“Quiet, please,” he said. “You will all receive a pamphlet as you leave the auditorium, detailing what this actually means and answering all your questions, so for now, just listen. Now, although an omega is a blessing to whole of Wolfdom (Stiles was so sick of that line already, he never wanted to hear it again), it will create some complications for Stiles, here at school. 

“Only seven of your schoolmates are unmated alphas, and they have all been warned not to approach him, but to allow him to initiate contact with them if he so desires. Those with whom he shared classes now have a modified schedule so his presence does not distract them from their studies. Should you witness Stiles being harassed by anyone, in anyway, please report it immediately.

“We are sure our two unmated alpha teachers will have enough control outside of the full moon to be able to continue with their duties without problems.

“It is however possible that unmated alphas from outside our school might make attempts to... force their acquaintance on Stiles. We are counting on all of you, as his schoolmates and friends and as pack members of this township’s alliance to protect him from such a thing happening. The rule against shifting and howling in the corridors is therefore exceptionally lifted, as you must signal the presence of any unauthorized werewolf within the school immediately. 

“This might include people you actually know outside of school, even possibly unmated alphas from your own pack or packs closely allied to yours. Regardless of who they are, and of whatever explanation they have for being within our school, do not allow their presence to go undetected, as I can assure you now that none of them will be here legitimately unless Principle Taylor or myself are with them. It is to everyone’s benefit for Stiles to freely chose his own mate. 

“Stiles will be accompanied at all time by some of his friends and classmates. At all times! Try to not separate him from his escorts. He is never to leave the school grounds unaccompanied. Please, volunteer to escort him should he need to go outside, if none of his friends or classmates are available.

“Though we were hoping it would take a little longer than it has, I regret to say that the media has evidently already been alerted of this unusual Sorting. Please do not speak to reporters. Speaking to the press will get you suspended from school. Let’s try to protect Stiles’ privacy as much as possible. Thank you.”

He turned to Stiles. “Stiles, would you like to say anything?”

“Uh… Yeah, actually.” He got up and took the mike. “Hey. Please do not ever tell me I’m a blessing to Wolfdom. We all know better. 90% of you have happily ignored me for years. Please, keep it up. I’m really sorry about all this. Let’s just pretend none of it ever happened, OK? Thanks, bye.” He jumped off the dais and sat next to Scott, who was laughing pretty hard.

“Just shut up, you jerk.” 

Scott just laughed harder.

“Assembly dismissed. Please return to your scheduled classes,” said Principal Taylor.

Stiles dad walked off the dais and came to talk to Stiles and Scott. “I’ll pick you kids up at three. Stay within the building until you see me, OK?”

“Dad, we already covered this,” Stiles reminded him.

“I know, I know… “ Then he grinned, which was a bit odd. “Have a really good day, you two…” He gave his son a one-arm hug, clapped Scott on the shoulder and walk back towards his deputy. They left through the teacher’s entrance.

“Well, no point in rushing,” observed Scott, sitting back down.

Indeed, there was a bottleneck at the exits, where each student was being handed a pamphlet. Going against the stream, Lydia, Jackson, Allison and Danny made their way towards them. When he saw them, Scott got back on his feet and Allison kept right on walking until she was in his arms and kissing him, a little more enthusiastically that the venue allowed.

“What the fuck,” said Jackson, staring.

“They’re mates, Jackson. Do keep up,” said Lydia, shrugging.

Allison broke the kiss and said, grinning at Scott, “My mom and dad came to see me Saturday. It was tough, at first, but we actually talked a lot, and that was good; they came back again on Sunday. It’s all arranged.” She smiled, her eyes shining. “I talked to Alpha Stilinski and your mom on the phone last night. My parents are bringing all my stuff to your house today. Scott! I’m coming home with you!”

Scott whooped and lifting her up, he twirled her around. They were so cute and happy, laughing in utter joy together, that it was great even though it looked right out of a really cheesy rom-com. Suddenly, what his dad had said on his way out made a lot more sense to Stiles.

“OK,” said Danny, summing it up. “So Stiles’s an omega and Scott and Allison are mated. Busy weekend at the Stilinskis, eh?”

Stiles laughed, so happy for Scott he just wanted to hug everybody. “Yeah,” he said. “You could say that…”

“But McCall Sorted months ago,” whined Jackson, annoyed that although the situation didn't make any sense, Lydia acted as if it did.

Lydia rolled her eyes and sighed, as if she could not believe she had to bother explaining what should have been obvious. “Allison’s an Argent, the Argents are Hunters and Hunters are separatists. Allison and Scott have been secretly bonded for months. Think Romeo and Juliet, but with a happy ending, because no one dies. Oh,” she grinned, “and Mercutio is an omega.” She and Stiles high-fived, which didn’t help make Jackson less surly.

“That’s incredible,” commented Danny. “I never noticed anything going on between them. They acted completely normal. They really have amazing control... Hm. Much more than this idiot, evidently,” he added, having spotted Matt Daehler, one of their classmates, making his way forcefully towards them.

“Uh-oh. He’s an unmated Alpha,” said Jackson. "He’s on the swim team with me. Are you interested in talking to him, Stiles?” he asked, surprising Stiles by being so considerate.

“No. Not really,"said Stiles. "He works for the school newspaper. He wrote that article where it said it was stupid to allow humans on sport’s teams, when they could never compete anyway? I mean, I can understand this point of view, but it was also quite clear he thought humans were just plain inferior to weres in general. Not someone I need to know.” 

“And yet, when I first moved here, he kept asking me out, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer,” remembered Allison, rolling her eyes. “Hey, calm down, you,” she added to a growling Scott. “It was before you Sorted.”

“Yeah, well. He’s kind of a jerk,” concluded Stiles.

“All right. No worries, I’ve got it,” said Jackson.

To Stiles’ complete astonishment, Jackson walked up to Matt, put an arm around his shoulders and steered him in the opposite direction, talking to him. Matt stopped in his tracks, apparently vehemently stating his case, trying to get around Jackson. Jackson stopped him again, solidly planted in his way this time, and… yep, Jackson was in his beta form. Daehler shifted too, his red eyes glowing …And he was on the floor with Jackson’s wolf on his chest and Jackson’s jaw around his throat. Matt crawled backwards, got up, back to human, and skedaddled, but not without one last yearning look towards Stiles. Jackson shifted back and walked back towards them, adjusting his clothes, which had been seriously challenged by his sudden shift.

“Ugh,” he said, as Lydia helpfully finished putting him to right. “I hate shifting while dressed, even with the special pleats our tailor adds to my clothes to make it more comfortable. My tail just has nowhere to go! I’m gonna have to start going commando if this becomes a common occurrence. Daehler is such a prick,” he added, casually, putting his arm around Lydia’s shoulders. She kissed his cheek, very pleased with him.

“Wow, dude. Thanks,” said Stiles, really meaning it.

Jackson gave him a smirk. “Just doing my part, Stilinski. You are, after all, a blessing to whole of Wolfdom.”

Danny cracked up as he and Jackson fist-bumped. Oh, good. Jackson was still a douche.

Finally, the crowd had thinned enough so that they could leave the auditorium. Danny walked next to Stiles. Before they parted to go to their separate classes, Danny leaned over, took a deep breath and whispered to Stiles, “You do smell fucking amazing, Stilinski,” and winked at him, _again_. Jesus.

It seemed Danny was right though. Although he did not encounter any other unmated alphas that day, a lot of his schoolmates, even some he hardly knew, seemed to find reasons to talk to him and to stand just a little bit too close. That included betas, and even unsorted wolves, boys and girls alike. Stiles was really, really glad that his friends had suddenly become so protective of him, and that, serendipitously, they were all alphas. Even Lydia and Allison could get people to back off if they became annoying, by flashed their red eyes. 

At lunchtime, Boyd and Erica, who usually ate alone together at a small table by the window, sat at their table. Although Boyd played Lacrosse, he was usually so quiet the others hardly knew him. Scott introduced the newcomers to everyone and they sat across each other at the end of the table. Stiles realized, when people kept coming over and turning around, disappointed, that Boyd and Erica had relocated just so the table would be full and he could have lunch in peace.

Lydia teased him. “Stiles, I believe you are now _almost_ as popular as I am.”

Stiles commented, “You know, before I got to know you and realized that you actually are a goddess who deserves the worship, I always thought you were a stuck-up bitch when you were rude while brushing people off. Now I’m starting to get it. Some of these guys just don’t take a hint, no matter how plain.”

“Yep,” said Lydia. “and because I am magnanimous like that, I won’t even remind you that you were one of them.”

He stuck his tongue out at her as Jackson snorted. She flipped her hair back, struck a pose and fleeted her eyelashes at him like a Disney princess, adding with a put upon sigh, “It’s soooo tough to be me!” She suddenly droped the act and squinted at something over Scott's shoulder, frowning. “Oh. My. God. I think Matt Daehler is actually taking pictures of you from behind the soda machine, with his telephoto lens!”

They all turned that way, and she was right. He was. Ugh. Creepy.

Jackson shook his head. “This could become be a problem. Matt’s the next Daehler Alpha, so his Alpha won’t compel him to quit it, they’d love to have you in their pack.” 

“How the hell do we stop him?” wondered Scott, out loud.

“I don’t think you can,” said Allison. “I don’t think they can help themselves.” She flicked her eyes discreetly to her left, her stealthy move ruined by the fact that they all turned as one to stare that way.

A girl (Malia? Milly? Something with an “M”) was sitting at the table next to them. She was staring at Stiles adoringly, and her tray was about to fall off the table, being as far over the edge as possible, herself leaning in her chair toward him. She was scenting the air, and she smiled when he looked her way.

“Shit,” said Stiles, face-palming. “This is ridiculous.” 

“It’s the omega pheromones,” said Lydia. “Even to my human nose, you smell fantastic. Jackson smells perfect, obviously, like everything I love all in one scent, but you do smell really good.”

“I agree. Scott smells better, a more complex, awesome mix, but you’re definitely up there,” said Allison. “Minty and fresh.”

“Not quite. More like fresh cut grass, right?” said Lydia.

“Really?” asked Erica, surprised into joining their conversation. “He smells lemony and sweet to me.”

“Nah. Like a pine forest in the summer heat,” said Jackson, surprising Stiles.

Scott took a deep breath. “Nope. Like when you peel an orange. I love that smell.”

“Freesia,” said Boyd, surprising _everybody_.

Danny was leaning into Stiles personal space and taking deep breaths, eyes closed. “Whatever it is, smells pretty irresistible to me,” he said, grinning. 

“Danny, quit it!” cried Stiles, laughing and shoving him off, knowing Danny was teasing but blushing a little anyway. He added more soberly, “Seriously, guys, I don’t want to have to stop coming to school.”

“Nope. Not going to happen. I need you here,” said Lydia, matter-of-factly. “Grade-wise, you’re my only serious competition. When I get to be Valedictorian, I want to know I have earned it.”

Stiles grinned. “Oh, yeah? When _you_ get to be Valedictorian? We both have 4.0’s, Lydia.”

She smiled evilly. “Yes, but you look tired. While your sleep is no doubt disturbed by wicked, wicked dreams, induced by your teenage hormones, I’m sleeping wonderfully well, because I’m getting regular, fantastic sex.”

“Ew! TMI, Lydia,” griped Stiles, as the other bonded people at the table cracked up.

She ignored him and went on, posing gracefully, “Plus, I’ve been a Goddess all my life, whereas you’re having to learn to cope with your newfound popularity.” She smiled innocently. “The stress is going to sink you, Stilinski…”

“Dream on, Aphrodite. I always seek refuge from my troubles in my books. The tougher things get, the more I study. I’m unsinkable.”

“Uh uh. So was the Titanic, sweetheart.”

“Call me Molly Brown, baby,” Stiles retorted, pleased with himself.

Lydia shrugged and answered, pretending she had not gotten the reference, “All right, _Molly_. Though I think Stiles fits you better.” She smirked.

“… Ugh. I hate you,” said Stiles, conceding defeat, as all the others laughed.

She smiled with false modesty. “Aphrodite, 1. Molly, 0. Get used to it, darling. Perfection is my cross to bear.”

 

At the end of the school day, Stiles was definitely ready to go home, sick of dodging aggressively friendly schoolmates. Since it would be the first time Allison came home to the Stilinski house as Scott’s mate, Scott and Allison were also very eager to get going, for very different and much happier reasons. 

The sheriff’s cruiser was idling at the bottom of the school entrance's steps when they came out of the front door. Deputy Parrish, who was apparently the poor schmuck recruited to ride along with Stiles’ dad this time around, had the back door already opened for them.

As they were coming down the steps, there suddenly was a commotion on the parking lot. Camera flashes were going off, and reporters with microphones, contained across the drive by a temporary barrier reinforced by what looked like half the Sheriff department, started yelling questions.

“Omega Stilinski! How does it feel to be the first omega in over a century?”  
“Did any one harass you at school?”  
“Omega Stilinski, look this way please!” “Stiles! Smile, Stiles!” “A little wave for the camera?”  
“Omega Stilinski? Do you know who your mate is?”  
“Is this young lady your mate? What’s her name?”  
“Is your mate one of the eleven unmated alphas in your school?”  
“This way! This way! Look up please!” “Stiles, a smile please!”  
“Do you think enough is being done by the township to keep you safe?”  
“Omega Stilinski! Are you gay or straight?”

The three of them just ignored it all and just piled in the back of the car, and as soon as Parrish got in, John peeled off. Stiles sank down the seat until his knees hit the front seat. “Jeez! What the hell was that?!” he cried, disbelieving.

“Sorry, son,” replied the sheriff, driving less smoothly than usual. “They were at the house too. I had to call in everyone to help push them back and cordon off our cul-de-sac. The neighbors aren’t too thrilled. Their front yards aren’t protected by mountain ash. The reporters stampeded right over Alpha Miller’s begonias.”

When they got close to their street, seeing another crowd of eager press people from a distance, Stiles sank down into his seat again. Reporters and photographers briefly surrounded the car, questions being hurled at him, flashes going off everywhere, as one of the deputies opened the barrier blocking off their cul-de-sac to let the cruiser through. They could still hear distant calls as they got out of the car. Stiles, a little freaked out, ran in, leaving Allison to open the mountain ash line to allow the sheriff and Scott access to their own house before closing it back up after them. Deputy Parrish drove the cruiser away.

When Stiles got into the house, there was finally blessed silence. The contrast was a bit jarring. He dropped his bag by the door, leaning against the wall, and was taking a deep soothing breath when he noticed the banner across the entryway that said, “Welcome Home, Allison!”.

There were also the traditional wreaths and garlands, made of willow, blooming moonflowers and fragrant honeysuckle tied together with white ribbon, on the doors, around the windows and along the staircase, and Melissa was waiting for her son’s mate with a crown of Lilly of the valley and tiny pink roses.

Stiles decided that what was going on in here, right now, was way more important than what was out there. This was Scott’s and Allison’s big day. Grinning, he went to stand by Melissa. As he entered, John picked up a small box wrapped in pretty flowery paper with small pink bow from the table by the door and joined them. 

When Scott and Allison came in, her delighted smile showed how much she appreciated that the Stilinski pack had chosen to ignore the previous six months and welcome the new mates as they would have had the mating been new. Scott mouthed “Thank you!” to his mom, probably aware of how much effort she had made to have everything ready with such short notice. 

Suddenly, Stiles remembered something. “Oh! Sorry, sorry, guys! Wait up!” he cried and he ran upstairs. From one of his desk drawer, he pulled out the box in which he’d placed Allison’s welcoming gift months ago, hoping this day would come. He rushed back downstairs, and skidded to a stop next to Melissa who was smiling at him. Actually, they were all smiling at him, because he was Stiles, because they were his pack and they loved him, and for no other reason. He smiled back, grinned like a fool actually, feeling normal for the first time in three days, and totally thrilled this was finally happening, after all these months. They were ready to start.

“My mate is Allison Argent,” Scotty announced, a note of pride in his voice, and his whole being radiating joy. 

“Scott McCall is my mate,” replied Allison, with her dimpled smile, her eyes shining. “And should you so allow, Alpha Stilinski, his pack will be my pack.”

Scott let go of her hand, and she walked to the Stilinski Alpha, lowering her head in submission. John put his hand on the back of her neck and kissed her forehead. 

“The Stilinski pack is blessed to have you as its future Alpha’s mate,” he said.

“The blessing is mine, to have such a mate,” she answered.

John gave her his gift and she turned to Melissa.

“Welcome home, my son’s mate,” Melissa said, smiling warmly.

“Thank you for giving him life,” said Allison.

“Our pack is blessed to have you as its future Alpha’s mate.”

“The blessing is mine, to have such a mate.”

“Daughter,” Melissa said, placing the crown of flowers on Allison’s head.

Allison turned to Stiles. They smiled at each other, remembering the day when he had welcomed her to the pack with the traditional blessing, and she had given him the ritual answer. These were only ever said once, so instead Stiles said, “I’m so glad today has finally come, Allison,” and he hugged her. 

She returned the hug, laughing with joy, “Oh, Stiles. Me too. We could have never made it without you. Thank you!”

He gave her his gift. “This was in my drawer way to long,” he said.

“Thank you for believing you would need it one day.”

They moved on to the dining room, where the traditional meal was laid out: Egg-shaped candy; fishes made out of chocolate; Jordan almonds; marzipan fruits; pomegranates; kiwifruit; grapes; plates of moon crescent shaped cookies, sweetness and fertility the underlying themes.

Allison opened her presents. In John’s gift, there was a set of house keys attached to a keychain bearing the Stilinski pack symbol and, in a small velvet covered box, a set of the traditional thumb rings worn by mates. They were usually antiques, owned by the pack, sometimes hundreds of years old, several sets entrusted to the pack's Alpha, and passed from one Alpha to the next, to be bestowed upon the oldest of a newly mated pair. They were returned to the Alpha’s keeping at the death of the mates. 

“Alpha Alba Stilinski, my great grandmother, and her mate Perry were the last to wear these rings, ” explained John. “They had four children, and were together for nine hundred and seventy seven moons. May you be so blessed.”

Allison slipped the largest ring on Scott’s finger, and he put the other one on hers. They smiled at each other.

Stiles had not wrapped his box, but inside, the gift was cocooned in several layers of blue tissue paper. Uncovered, it was a small earthware bluebird, beautifully represented. Stiles had known right away Allison would love it. It had no use whatsoever. It was just pretty. She smiled.

“You know I love it,” she says.

“Yep.” He grinned.

“Thanks, Stiles.”

They all ate some sweets and some fruits, but Melissa filled a basket with most of them. She gave it to Scott, and said, “I’m sorry you did not get a mating party, or a nice long retreat. It's not really feasible for you two to go away right now, but you do not have to go back to school until you are both ready, and we will place your meals on a tray in front of your door so you can forget the rest of the world for a while. Off you go!”

Scott and Allison took each other’s hand, and ran to the stairs, laughing. Stiles, Melissa and John looked at each other and smiled.

“Hmm,” mused John. "I think we will need to refurbish and reopen one of the couples’ suites on the third floor for the lovebirds as soon as possible. Allison and Scott can choose some furniture from storage, and decorate it as they like. They’re bigger, and, you know, _sound proof_. This week, I’ll just take on extra shifts, I guess." He made a pained expression and got up from the table rather suddenly. “But right now, I think I’ll go watch some TV. With my noise cancelling headphones on. You two are lucky to be human! Oops! Yep! I really gotta go!”

Melissa and Stiles burst out laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just because: The key chain and the rings.
> 
>  
> 
> If you feel the urge to comment, know that each one makes me ridiculously happy.


	11. It's real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: On his Sorting moon, Stiles became a rare omega, and quickly learned that being special can suck. One positive thing came out of it since it allowed Scott and Allison to go public with their mating bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several chapters today, since I skipped last week.  
> I am also trying to get to closer to actual, real Sterek interactions here, one where they actually exchange words!   
> At least, Derek IS in these chapters!

The next day it was weird to get ready to go to school without Scott, kind of lonely. After all, they had been in the same class since kindergarten. So it was really nice when Stiles sat in the back of the cruiser to find Boyd sitting there already. Vern was in the front again with the Sheriff.

“Freshly ground coffee beans,” said Vern.

“Pff!” was Boyd’s comment.

“You’re both nuts. He smells like a French perfume: “L’Air du Temps”.

Oh. So they were playing the “What does Stiles smell like to me” game. L’Air du Temps had been Stiles’ mom’s perfume: One small drop of it, every morning inside her wrist. Evidently, it was still his father’s favorite smell in the world. Perhaps when Stiles started to smell like clean laundry, honey shampoo and a hint of hospital disinfectant to his father, John would be ready to move on and marry Scott’s mom.

“You all know I smell like “Eau de teenage boy” and that you are being fooled by my pheromones, right?” Stiles reminded them.

His dad ignored him. “We’ll pick you boys up at 3:00, allright?”

“John, we’ve got Lacrosse practice after school,” said Boyd.

“You may have to skip it, Stiles…” said his dad.

“Dad, come on! Danny, Jackson _and_ Boyd are on the team, and the others are all strong and…” 

“The Lacrosse field borders the preserve, Stiles…”

“Coach Finstock is an unmated alpha, Sheriff,” said Boyd. “We have econ. with him, and he’s been totally cool around Stiles, but I bet the claws would definitely come out in another unmated alpha showed up and tried something…”

“You could come watch us practice, Dad. Please! I’ll go nuts if I don’t get to work out. I already can’t run alone in the preserve before school anymore…”

“Son, I…” John made eye contact with his boy in the mirror, and must have seen the desperation on his face, because he said, “Fine. I’ll try to make it or I’ll send someone. Just… Damnit. Be careful, all right?”

“Dad, I don’t want to turn into a girl with big tits who hates video games or whatever. Trust me, I’m careful.”

“I don’t know, Stiles,” said Boyd. “A girl with big tits would be all right by me. What color hair?”

“Forget the hair!” Vern senior requested. “Tell us about girl-Stiles’ other assets please.”

“Yes, please! Girl-you’s ass… sets. In detail.” Boyd and his dad cracked up and high-fived, while the sheriff chuckled.

“Dad! Where is you fatherly outrage? These two pervs are _objectifying_ girl-me! You can’t be amused! Girl-me is deeply offended, I’ll let you know. And so is boy-me, on her behalf!” He turned to Boyd. “I’m going to tell Erica you wanted details about my ass and see how she likes it,” Stiles threatened him.

“Uh-oh. Burnt, son!” said Vern, laughing.

“Why, Stiles,” retorted Boyd with a grin, “I happen to know that Erica likes your booty just fine.” 

The men on the front seat burst out laughing. They were really enjoying themselves way too much. 

“I hate all of you,” said Stiles. “And Boyd, isn’t ‘quiet’ suppose to be your default setting?”

“Not with friends,” said Boyd, smiling at him.

Stiles was really touched. As long as anyone could remember, Boyd had only ever had one friend, Erica, and had never seemed interested in having another. He smiled back at Boyd.

That evening at practice, Stiles was so happy to be out, running around with his friends, he was totally buoyant and his mood spread to the whole team. Finstock was thrilled with them: they played really well. Deputy Parrish must have lost the coin toss because he was in the stands, along with Lydia, Erica, and a few other girls whose boyfriends were on the team. Stiles felt safe and _free_. 

Then, toward the end of practice, he thought he saw someone in the woods, where the sport field ended and the preserve began, from the corner of his eye. He pretended to retie his shoe as he checked it out.

He was right. There was a man there, wearing jeans and a leather jacket, and he was looking right at Stiles. Shit. Stiles looked away immediately, and decided to check again in a few minutes. He made sure to be on the side of the field nearest the preserve so he’d be closer, but near Danny in his goals and next to Finstock, who was jumping up and down in his enthusiasm, when he looked again.

The guy was still there, and still staring. And holy crap, he was hot. But not cute surfer-boy hot, more like gorgeous _serial killer_ hot, so Stiles made a beeline for Parrish.

“Uh… Deputy? There is some guy at the edge of the preserve, just standing there and… staring.”

“Yeah. I Know. We told the Hales we had it covered, but they insisted on having someone here.”

“Oh. Sorry. I thought…”

“Stiles, you were right to come and tell me. Your dad was really concerned about letting you play. He’ll be glad to know you’re being careful and keeping your eyes open. But no worries here. That’s definitely one of the Hales. One of the Alpha’s own sons actually. Michael or Derek, I’m not sure which. They look a lot alike.”

Finstock yelled for him to get his ass and his head back in the game, and Stiles did, really enjoying himself. He played forward with Jackson for a while, and they had a run of awesome passes, as if they were sharing a brain or something. When Finstock called it good, they actually high-fived, and Jackson said, “Man, it sucks that you can’t play in the games. We would slaughter them!”

Stiles knew it was just the high of a really good practice talking, that Jackson would be a dick to him as soon as he got a chance, but it still felt good. Then, as they were heading for the locker room, Parrish stopped Stiles and Boyd.

“Guys, give your sticks and helmets to your friends, you’re showering at home. Let’s try to throw off the news hounds.”

When they reached the parking lot, John was already waiting for them in the cruiser, the engine running. Their early departure did allow them to avoid a bit of the insanity with the reporters, but the whole thing was really getting out of hand. 

“I can’t keep the entire department on duty just to hold off the press,” said the sheriff, shaking his head, when they discussed it over dinner. “The overtime is going to kill our budget. Besides which, we have actual work to do and that’s only getting the attention of a skeleton crew.”

The next day was a bit better. Apparently, the township Alpha council had established a no-press perimeter in Stiles neighborhood and around the school. Anyone from the media caught within those areas would lose their township visitor’s permit. As a result, though, reporters now lined the roads that led from one place to the other. It was nuts. The sheriff department was now busy dealing with the consequences of the frayed tempers of the township’s inhabitants, suddenly having to put up with so many foreign wolves. “Something’s got to give,” was John’s comment.

Even though Scott and Allison were missing, Stiles was never without an escort inside the school. French was the only class he didn’t have with Lydia, (she was learning Ancient Greek, having already mastered both French and Latin) so she was almost always with him with either Jackson or Danny in tow. Boyd took French, and a couple of other AP classes, so he was there the rest of the time. Also, as they got closer to the new moon, the rest of the students seem to be better able to control themselves.

Stiles actually had a decent conversation with Heather, a girl he had known since preschool, who had always been pretty friendly to him and who happened to have sorted as an unmated alpha. He’d forgotten about it, and said “Hey, Heather,” to her when they ran into each other coming out of the cafeteria. She answered his greeting casually, asked him how he was doing, if his sudden notoriety was a pain in the ass, if the whole insanity was going to prevent him from going to university. He was a bit weary, but she acted extremely relaxed and normal, so he just enjoyed their talk.

Then she said, “I’m glad we talked, Stiles. Right after the full moon, I stayed away because… Well, it was ridiculous. I felt like a total stalker-creeper: If I saw you, or smelled you, I just started thinking up these elaborate plots to try and seduce you or something. Thinking about them after you’d gone out of range, I felt so embarrassed… But I didn’t want you to think I was suddenly snubbing you or something. I know we’ve not really been close friends since, like, kindergarten, but still… We’ve always been friendly. That’s actually why, since it said in the fliers we were given that omegas naturally fall in love with their mates, that I figured I wasn’t it, because we know each other well enough that you would have known, right?” She smiled. “And since you haven’t come calling…”

“Uh… Yeah, you’re right. I like you, you know, as a friend, but no. I know you’re not my mate.”

“Oh, well.” She batted her eyes and sighed dramatically. “I guess I’ll have to settle for finding love the hard way, then.” She laughed, then made a face. “I can’t guarantee I won’t lose it again as we get closer to the full moon, though, so please don’t take it wrong if I totally avoid you, OK? It’s just easier. And if I do do something totally embarrassing, please ignore me?”

“I will. But if I ever find a mate, and things get back to normal, I reserve the right to mock you about it for the rest of our lives.”

She giggled. “Why am I not surprised? Well, at least, I don’t have my entire locker lined with pictures of you like some weirdo we know. You are aware of Matt’s little shrine, aren’t you? You might want to be careful around him. The new moon doesn’t seem to have calmed him down any.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t aware of a shrine, but yeah, he’s tried to talk to me a couple of time… But thanks for the warning.”

“You’re welcome. Well, gotta go. Art class beckons. Bye, Stiles, and good luck.”

Danny, who had been waiting for him patiently the whole time, smiled. “Well, that was impressively normal. Nice girl, Heather.”

“Yeah. That was good, wasn’t it? Do you mind if we go by Deaton’s office? I think perhaps this might be a good time for me to talk to all the all the other unmated alpha’s in school, while they are, you know, their normal selves. I already know Heather and Matt and that girl Malia are definitely not it, and maybe if I just tell them… And I don’t know the others. Now would be a good time to meet them I think, while they are able to think rationally around me, in case I’m to magically fall in love with one of them.”

“I don’t know, Stiles, it’s just me,” said Danny, hesitantly. “Lydia and Jackson went ahead because our English class is right around the corner, but Deaton’s office is on the first floor and kind of far... But, well, it _is_ the new moon,” Danny shrugged. “I guess it will be all right. We do need to stop by the class real quick, or they’re going to worry.”

“Oh. Right.” Stiles was glad Danny had thought of that. He could just imagine Jackson and Lydia freaking out and interrupting the class if he and Danny hadn’t shown up by the time the bell rang.

“Thanks, Danny. Sorry, it’s gonna make us late.”

“Forget it. I think it’s a good plan, truthfully. If a nice, quiet rejection when they’re not overcome by their instincts can make the unmated alphas lose interest, we will all be better off, right?” He smiled at Stiles. Danny really was a nice guy.

The bell was ringing when they got to class. They grabbed one of the stragglers to tell her to warn everyone that Stiles and Danny would be late, and headed to Deaton’s office through the deserted corridors.

They made it to Deaton’s with no problem, and he agreed with them that now was a good time for Stiles to meet his unmated alpha schoolmates. He said he’d arrange for the six of them Stiles had not interacted with directly yet to meet him after class that day, for fifteen minutes each, under his supervision (Stiles was glad the reporters had it wrong, and there were not eleven unmated alphas in school, just seven. That was bad enough.). Deaton would also call the sheriff and let him know to come later to collect Stiles. 

Half the period was over by the time the boys got back to class, but it had been worth it, and Mr. Brower was cool about it. Danny and Stiles both were doing really well in his class.

After classes were over, Boyd couldn’t stay late: He had his job at the ice rink to go to. Danny volunteered to stay behind. He kind of felt invested in the whole thing. Once again, he would be escorting Stiles alone all the way to Deaton’s office, but really, with the new moon, people were acting a lot less crazy around Stiles. Also, the unmated alphas were all waiting for them in Deaton’s office's waiting room, and the vast majority of the students had gone home already anyway. 

They chatted about their English assignment on the way. In the middle of a sentence, Danny crumpled to the floor, and before Stiles had the time to even comprehend what was wrong, Matt Daehler had dropped the baseball bat he had hit Danny with to the ground, had his hand over Stiles mouth and was dragging him into an empty classroom.

Matt was very strong. Even with Stiles fighting him as hard as he could, in no time Matt had duct tape over his mouth and around his wrists, his hands behind his back. Matt pushed Stiles in the teacher’s chair and taped his ankles to the legs. He spoke as he worked.

“Stiles, Stiles, don’t fight me! They tried to keep me away, but they don’t understand! See, I love you. I’ve been in love with you since I was sorted in December, long before you were an Omega: I came to talk to Jackson about swim training after your guys’ practice one day, and I saw you in the shower, all that beautiful white skin, and that lithe body, and that amazing cock! You’re so perfect!”

He smiled at Stiles happily, and caressed his cheek. “I know you’d have fallen for me if they didn’t keep us apart. But they do, and that’s just not OK! I’m gonna suck that beautiful cock of yours. Let me take care of you. I’m gonna make you feel so good. You’re gonna come in my mouth and you’ll be mine, my perfect mate.” 

He was unbuttoning Stiles’ jeans, Stiles position making it rather difficult. “You smell so delicious, baby. Don’t worry, you won’t change at all, you’re perfect just as you are, so hot, so beautiful… Well, you’ll be a werewolf, of course, because…” 

A window exploded as a gigantic black wolf crashed through it and into the classroom. Matt wolfed out, but it was too little, too late. The giant wolf was dragging him away, shaking him like a ragdoll, his jaw clamped around Matt’s shoulder. Then the wolf methodically bit down on Matt’s upper arms, his thighs, his ankles, his wrists, and each time, Stiles heard the sound of breaking bones through Matt’s cries of pain. 

Leaving the young alpha whimpering on the floor, the wolf walked behind Stiles chair and Stiles felt the weight of a large paw as a claw sliced cleanly through the duct tape at his wrist. As soon as his hands were free, Stiles stood up precariously and fixed his pants. He was tearing the tape off his ankles when the wolf howled the three-tone howl calling for help and jumped back out the window.

It wasn’t until he found the courage to tear the duct tape off his face that Stiles realized he was convulsively crying. He hastily wiped his tears away with the tail of his shirt, sniffling. Danny walked in, on wobbly legs and holding his head.

“Stiles!” he cried, panic in his voice, “are you…”

Stiles sniffled one more time and said, “I’m fine Danny. I’m OK… What about you?”

“Oh, I’m OK. My healing’s a 4. I’ll be fine in a minute. Fuck, I’m sorry, Stiles. He took me totally by surprise. Some protection I turned out to be!” He looked gutted.

“Dude, Daehler’s nuts. Nobody could have seen that one coming. I’m just really glad you’re OK.”

Deaton arrived at a run, looking more ruffled than Stiles had ever seen him, holding a taser.

“Sorry I took so long. I had to make sure to keep your schoolmates away, to avoid any… trouble. I locked them up in my office.” He looked at Matt who was still mending on the floor and at the broken window and asked, “What happened?”

“Matt Daehler happened. He knocked out Danny, dragged me in here, tied me up and was planning on force-mating me when a huge black wolf jumped in through the window and chewed him up good. Literally. I’m OK. I mean, I’m freaked out, you know? But I’m fine. He didn’t, well, you know.”

“We can all be grateful for that. I should have said something earlier when you came with only Danny as an escort. But with the new moon, I thought… That was stupid.” He checked Danny’s head wound and evidently found nothing to be concerned about since he just clapped him on the shoulder. “I apologize, Stiles,” he added. “Thank god for Derek Hale.”

“How do you know it was Derek Hale?” Stiles had thought he recognized the giant wolf from the night of his Sorting but he had still wondered.

“Only Talia, Laura and Derek are black wolves, and the females are much smaller. His father and his brother Michael are almost as big as he is, but they are grey, not black.”

“What was he doing here?” asked Danny.

“The Hales have maintained their own watch over Stiles since his Sorting, for reasons they have not shared with me. I thought it was an overkill, but now, I’m very grateful.”

“Yeah. Me too, definitely,” admitted Stiles, trying to not show how freaked out he was. Danny threw his arm over his shoulders and gave him a sideways squeeze.

“I think we will postpone your conversations with your schoolmates until tomorrow, shall we? Even though it is the new moon, they were _quite_ upset when they heard the call for help, all of them assuming it was for you. They guessed it had to be because of Mr. Daehler. He had gone to the bathroom and they suddenly realized he’d not returned. They looked ready to lynch him, so I locked them away. I don’t think now is a good time to speak with them. I’m sure you’ve had enough trauma for one day.” He sighed. “I have to call the principal, tell him what happened.”

Deaton took out his phone, and Stiles realized they were not leaving the room until reinforcements arrived. Matt was still semi-conscious on the ground, healing, but slowly. Injuries caused by an alpha always took longer. It must have hurt like a bitch. Stiles could easily admit he was not sorry.

Danny walked over and looked down on his prone form, not seeming that bothered by his suffering either. “What about Daehler?” he asked.

“He and the other unmated alphas were clearly warned by the principal against making inappropriate advances to Stiles, about speaking to him without him initiating the conversation. He’ll be expelled,” said Deaton.

“Well, no shit!” Stiles exclaimed. “But what about legally: He assaulted Danny, kidnapped me, assaulted me and attempted to rape me!”

“I’m sorry, Stiles,” answered Deaton, looking as if he meant it. “Nothing an unmated alpha does to mate with an omega is actually punishable by law. Even if it’s considered reprehensible, it’s actually accepted as behavior dictated by a biological imperative.”

“What? He knocked out Danny! If it had been Lydia, he could have killed her!”

“Believe me, I understand your reaction. But everything he did was part and parcel of his attempt to force-mate you, which, regardless of how we feel about it, is not illegal. Your friends were warned of the risks they were taking,”

“Well, no one told me! I wouldn’t have let them!” cried Stiles. 

“I’m sorry, Stiles,” said Deaton again. His call to the principal must have connected, because he turned away and started talking.

“Stiles,” said Danny, putting his hand on Stiles shoulder, “We don’t want you to be stuck at home. We all knew some idiot might do something crazy and we all agreed it was worth it to give you a bit of normalcy. Like Mr. Deaton said, it was stupid of me to escort you alone. We should have known better, and we won’t do that again, but we all want you here.”

“But, Danny, you guys could get hurt! I mean, not you, not for long, but Lydia and Allison…”

Danny shook his head. “They were the most outspoken about not wanting you to be left out, and they are definitely never alone with you. How would you feel if the situation was reversed and Lydia was the omega? Would you want her to give up on graduating with us? On the possibility of going to university?”

“Well, no, of course not, but she’s… I mean, you guys are her friends!” said Stiles, frowning.

“What, do you think we all just let you hang with us because you’re Scott’s friend?”

“Er… Yeah. Well, kind of?” admitted Stiles.

Danny draped his arm over Stiles shoulders again and gave him another squeeze. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“Yeah?” asked Stiles, warmth blooming in his chest.

“Yep.” Danny flashed his dimples at him.

“Oh, OK.” Stiles smiled at Danny, tentatively. Danny rolled his eyes and chuckled. Principal Taylor walked in, along with Mr. Pallaz, the janitor.

“Time to take the trash out,” joked Pallaz, who was a huge beta, picking Matt up from the floor and swinging him over his shoulder as if he weighed nothing.

“Just take him to my office. His Alpha’s on his way. There’s paperwork they both have to sign,” said Principal Taylor.

“All righty, then.” Pallaz adjusted his hold on Matt, none too gently. Matt cried out in pain. Pallaz ignored him completely and walked out.

“I took the liberty to call the sheriff, Mr. Stilinski. We’ll walk you to the doors and wait for him, shall we?” said the principal.

“Did you tell him what happened?” asked Stiles, worried his father would not let him come back to school.

“I told him one of the young people you had agreed to meet and talk to after class lost control and attacked you and your escort, but that he was unsuccessful in force-mating you, and that he would be expelled”, he explained. “I am giving you a chance to tell him the details of what happened yourself, but Mr. Deaton will meet with him tomorrow. Your father might decide it is too dangerous for you to continue to attend school. I would disagree with him, though your classmates might not be enough protection after all. We might have to think of an alternative.”

“It’s been fine so far,” said Danny. “We just let down our guard when we shouldn’t have.” 

Stiles was torn. He didn’t want to give up the normalcy of attending school, but neither did he want to put his classmates in danger. Matt had also scared him. He had made him realize just how vulnerable he really was. He figured he would talk about it with his dad and see what he thought. 

Deaton, principal Taylor and Danny all escorted him to his dad’s cruiser when he pulled up, Vern Boyd coming out to open the door for him. It was a bit of an overkill, but Stiles, for once, didn’t mind. The afternoon’s event had been an eye opener. 

He lay down on the back seat, out of sight, and told his dad all about the attack as they drove home. His father’s professional, unemotional questioning helped him recall many details he might not have otherwise remembered, which reminded him how good his father was at his job. 

It helped him relive the events in a detached manner, putting them into perspective. Once he was finished, his father let him be, giving him a chance to process what had happened, and figure out how he felt about it. Stiles was angry at Matt, frustrated with the law, but also annoyed at himself and a bit embarrassed for having been so lackadaisical about his own safety. Thanks to his high healing factor, Danny was fine. Thanks to the Hales, he was fine as well. But the danger was real. A lot of people were invested in keeping him safe. Situations like the one today could be avoided if he was proactive instead of reluctant when it came to his own protection. 

He and John must have gone a very unusual way, because it took them twice as long to get home as it should have and Stiles didn’t hear the usual racket from the reporters. Out of the car, Stiles gathered some of the mountain ash from the line across the path to break its continuity and allow his father in, and immediately replaced it to reform the barrier. It had become so automatic, he did it without even thinking about it. He and his father were still pensive as they made their way to the house.

Stiles was thrilled when they got inside to see Scott and Allison sitting on the floor in the living room, working on catching up with classes on the coffee table. There was a lot of hugging and back-slapping, and whether it was because John didn’t want to put a damper on their reunion or because he was not as crazy worried about what had happened that day as Stiles expected, he didn’t mention the incident with Daehler until dinner time.

Even when John did come around to talking about what had taken place at school that day, to Stiles’ surprise, his retelling was succinct and not overly dramatic. “Scott and Allison will be back in school tomorrow,” he concluded, “and Principal Taylor and I agreed that you will never be escorted by less than three people from now on, no matter what the situation. I actually expected it to be a lot worse than it has been, and I think your idea of talking preemptively to the remaining unmated alphas tomorrow is a very good one, which might defuse the situation further. Just please, don’t let your guard down again. Do not go anywhere with less than three people, even if it will make you late for class.”

“I won’t, Dad, I promise. We’d gotten complacent. This whole thing freaked me out enough that it’s not going to happen again, believe me.”

“Good,” the sheriff said, and that was that. 

Stiles stayed up late with Allison and Scott, sharing with them his very thorough and beautifully color coded (just plain fantastically awesome) notes in the classes they had in common. It warmed his heart to see the both of them so happy, to bask in the feeling of harmony and joy that always existed around mated pairs. 

For the first time since his sorting, he felt excited that, even though as an omega the process of finding his mate was more of a challenge than it was for most people, there _was_ someone out there, someone who was his, who would love him as much as these two loved each other. He was reminded that having a mate was a gift and not a burden.

 

The next day, the conversations with the remaining unmated alphas went well. None of them made his heart go pitter-patter, which was kind of too bad: it would have made things nice and easy if one of his schoolmates was his mate. Oh, well. They were all bit disappointed too, but accepting, though they all did mention they might still make idiots out of themselves around him as the full moon approached. He promised not to hold against them.


	12. Scientific cupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one, but more to follow tonight.

Just when it seemed things were calming down, the letters and packages started to arrive. Evidently, the Stilinski pack’s address had been made public. The contents varied, as well as the addressee: Some came to the Stilinski Alpha, and some were directly addressed to Omega Stilinski; but the substance of the letters did not. They were petitions from unmated alphas for a chance to meet with the omega.

Some came from kids Stiles age, with just a friendly letter and a picture. Some came from the Alphas of established packs, with financial records, information about their packs and descriptions of the benefits Stiles would enjoy were he to choose them as mates. Most came with some kind of gift, ranging from handmade cards to books to clothes to a fully equipped midnight blue BMW Z4 roadster, delivered to the house, which, sadly, John made Stiles turn down without even a test drive (even though the accompanying letter clearly stated “No strings attached”! Rude, Dad!). 

More often than not, some of Stiles, Scott and Allison’s friends now joined them at Stilinski house after school. Lydia came almost every evening, sometimes with Jackson, sometimes with Danny, sometimes with both. Boyd and Erica started visiting as well. At some point, once their homework was done and they got tired of video games, they always ended up sitting around the coffee table, opening some of Stiles ridiculous daily pile of mail and commenting on the contents. It was actually pretty fun.

After a few days, Stiles noticed that Lydia, as she read the letters, had started taking notes. “Are you taking these seriously, Lydia?” he asked, surprised.

“Stiles, think about it. You are pretty much on house arrest here. Your whole life is on hold as long as you are unmated. However ridiculous it may be, your freedom to have a future is tied to you falling in love with someone, falling for _the_ unmated alpha who is perfect for you. That’s just reality. One of these people,” she pointed to the tittering pile of mail on the coffee table, “one of these unmated alphas who are contacting you in the only way they can think of, might very well be the right person.”

She bend down and retrieved an unopened letter in a small pale blue envelope that had gotten wedged under the foot of the coffee table. “This… ‘Alpha Nash’ in Chicago township, for example, could be the wonderful, smart, handsome guy that will steal your heart, but the way we have been going about this, how could you possibly figure that out?”

She ripped the letter open and scanned it quickly. “28, Alpha of a small pack including his sister and her mate, his two brothers, two cousins and one of his cousins’ mate. He is a Captain in the fire and rescue unit of the Chicago fire department, gay, great cook, loves kids… Cute, too, look at him.” She handed him the picture of a good-looking, grinning guy wearing the bottom of his fireman garb, including the suspenders, but without a shirt. “Nice body, right! See?” 

She shoved the letter back in its envelope. “I mean, yes, that girl from Oregon send you her underwear, and there was the one with the foot fetish, but most of them are like this one,” she threw the letter on top of the mess on the table, “from normal people who have seen your picture in the paper, who are single and… lonely maybe? And who are thinking, ‘Well, someone out there is going to end up with that tall, quirky omega, with the beautiful golden eyes, upturned nose and gorgeous ass. Why not me?”

Stiles grinned. “Gorgeous ass? Really?”

She laughed. “Is that really all you got from what I just said?”

He chuckled. “No. No, obviously not. You make a good point. But how in the world do I go about it? It’s like looking for a needle in a hay stack when you don’t even know what a needle looks like.”

“Exactly. Which is why I started making a list of the information most of them feel is important to provide, and why I have been researching the history of omegas. I am gathering data, then I’ll do a statistical analysis and try to figure out some kind of an algorithm to narrow down this mess to something we can actually work with.”

“My very own scientific cupid,” he said, smiling. “Thanks, Lydia.” He sat next to her and interrupted the others, who were just trying to find the most outrageous candidate of the day (In Stiles opinion, Scott had the winner, with a 72 year-old female alpha from Walla Walla, up in Washington state.). “Guys? Lydia is fact finding. So let’s each of us grab a pile and help her out…”

That night, Stiles went to bed feeling more relaxed than he had in a while. Though nothing had yet come of it, the tedious systematic and goal oriented reading of the mail had given Stiles a sense he had somehow reclaimed some control over his life. Just for that, it had been worth it.

Over the next few evening, Boyd, Jackson and Erica went through all of the mail Stiles had received since the beginning. All of them assembled all the books they could find with information on omega mating, borrowing them from Mr. Deaton and the Whittemore, Martin, Boyd and surprisingly extensive Reyes packs libraries, and over the weekend, Stiles, Scott, Allison and Lydia read and cataloged all the information. Danny and Stiles both spent hours upon hours on Google, tracking any shred of knowledge they could find.

Lydia started working from all the compiled information as the rest of them kept gathering more. Stiles was amazed how committed and dedicated his friends were. It occurred to him, that, just like him, they had been frustrated, not being able to do anything more to help him than act as bodyguards, and that now they were relieved to finally have something concrete to do. 

Though his situation still sucked, he felt, in a way, incredibly lucky. He had friends, real friends who genuinely cared about him. The thought of losing who he was by mating with the wrong person was more repellent than ever. 

 

By the end of the following weekend, Lydia had put together a thirty-two pages, computer gradable, compatibility questionnaire for unmated alphas interested in meeting Stiles, as well as a list of requirements based on the statistical analysis of the information they had gathered, that any alpha would have to satisfy to qualify to receive one of the questionnaires.

Even with all their research, due to the limited number of omega sorting throughout history, she had been working with little data, and had not been willing to extrapolate in case it jeopardized Stiles chance to meeting his true mate. So the requirements for the alphas to qualify were actually few.

1\. They had to have been Sorted before Stiles. Never had an omega fallen in love with someone younger than him or her.  
2\. They had to be less than 360 moons old. (Historically, no omega had ever mated an alpha older than 351 moons, but Lydia figured she’d err on the generous side.)  
3\. They had to live within 400 miles of Beacon Hills Township. (Again, historically, an omega always found his or her mate within 320 radial miles of his or her pack of origin, but 400 miles already eliminated so many of the people who had written to Stiles…)  
4\. They had to be single. No omega had ever broken up a marriage.  
5\. This requirement was not based on research. It had been added by Stiles. If they were male, the alphas had to be either bisexual or gay. He did not want to be courted by straight males who counted on his pheromones to work their magic because they wanted the benefits of bonding with an omega for themselves or for their pack. For the same reason, if they were female, they had to be straight or bisexual.

 

After making Lydia promise (on the head of her as of yet un-conceived first child) not to read his answers before feeding the thirty-two double sided sheets into the computerized grading machine they had borrowed from the school, Stiles had taken the compatibility questionnaire. He knew how important it was for him to be absolutely truthful, so they could select, among all the alphas who might answer the questionnaire, those that were most compatible with him, but still, it was difficult to do so when some of the questions were so revealing in nature. He particularly hated those that started with “Have you ever engaged in, or have you ever had sexual dreams leading to orgasms about engaging in…” Ugh. Some of these were just creepy as hell. 

Now that all the work was done, they just had to figure out how to get the questionnaire to the right people. Lydia had said she was “on it”, so Stiles was confident a solution was forthcoming. Being an omega did not seem like such a burden anymore.


	13. Too close for comfort

Two days before the flower moon, John was driving Stiles, Scott and Allison to school, all three squished in the back, with Parrish riding shotgun. Two SUV’s came out of a side street, one ending up in front, and the other one in the back of the cruiser. The front one stopped suddenly, right after the railway crossing, and forced the cruiser to stop right on the rails, the other SUV crowding behind them, preventing them from backing up. The tires of the cruiser were shot out, preventing the sheriff from trying to push one of the SUV’s out of the way. Of course, the 7:07 train to the coast was due, and almost immediately after they were forced to stop, the warning bell rang and the automatic barriers came down.

“Come out of the car with your hands above your heads. You know what we want. Omega Stilinski, walk to the forward car. The rest of you, go toward the rear one. Do as you are told, and no one will get hurt,” said someone, speaking in a bullhorn.

They had no choice but to get out as the train was coming down the tracks, slowly but surely. They could hear the scream of metal on metal as the breaks were being applied, but there was no way the train could possibly stop in time to not hit the cruiser. 

“OK! Allison, you have your crossbow? Good. Boys, there are loaded guns under the seats. We’ll pretend to do as they say,” ordered the sheriff. “But as soon as Stiles is out the door, Stiles, you start running on the tracks, away from the train: No way is anybody going to shoot at you, they want you alive. The rest of us will drop and roll _forward_ off the tracts and start shooting. I bet there are less of these jerks in the front car, since they have to have room for Stiles. Let’s go!”

Stiles grabbed the gun that was indeed under the middle seat. Allison had already pulled her crossbow out of her bag and armed it. John and deputy Parrish had to open the doors for them, since the cruiser was made to transport prisoners and there were no handles on the back doors. Stiles made sure to be last to exit, giving the others time to prepare themselves, and then he hit the ground running.

The shooting seemed to start almost immediately. Very soon, he heard footsteps behind him in hot pursuit but didn’t look back. He just ran as fast as he could, concentrating on not twisting his ankle on the traverses. As soon as he heard the impact of the train with the cruiser, he jumped off the tracks and rolled down the grassy incline on his left, which he thought might hurt the least. He got back to his feet in a move he would be impressed with later and just kept running for all he was worth into the sparse woods ahead of him. 

He thought he could hear three different sets of footsteps behind him getting much too close for comfort, but then there was the sound of an impact, a scream of pain and the noise of someone hitting a tree _hard_.

He realized that Allison had shot one of his pursuers. The gun shots he could hear from afar told him that someone was still having it out with his would be kidnapers back at the cars. He also knew that with just handguns, the three men would be too afraid to hit him to take a long shot. Only Allison would have the confidence and the cool-headedness to do so. 

Another impact, another runner hitting the ground, quietly this time. Still someone was behind him, coming way too fast, obviously wolfed out. Though he didn’t stand a chance and his lungs were burning, Stiles sped up, running faster than he ever had, his body’s abilities getting a boost from the adrenaline in his bloodstream.

He saw a blur of motion to his left, heard the impact of one body hitting another at full speed followed by growls and the sound of a fierce struggle in the shrubbery. He skidded to a stop and turned around to see a large sleek grey wolf having it out with a huge beta. He pulled the gun out from the back of his pants and clicked off the safety. He was pretty sure the wolf was Peter Hale, and he tried to aim for the human beta, but the fight was fast and vicious, and his hands were shaking so badly he could not take a shot without risking hitting the wolf.

Peter might have been only a beta himself, but he was not his sister’s left hand for nothing. He quickly got the upper hand in the struggle and Stiles clearly heard the crunching sound of the beta’s vertebra being broken by the wolf’s powerful jaws before his body hit the ground. Peter proceeded to rip the man’s throat out with his teeth, then grabbed what was left of the neck and shook until the head came off the body and rolled to Stiles feet. 

Stiles was horrified to see the man blink twice before his eyes glazed over. He promptly lost his breakfast on the forest floor. When he looked up again, Peter was methodically licking his chops to clean the fur around his mouth free of blood, and he almost lost it again. He could have sworn the wolf smirked at him before trotting calmly away into the woods. 

He walked a few steps, leaned his back against a tree and slid to the ground, holding his gun shakily in front of him in case more pursuers should appear. He lowered it when his dad and Scott appeared amongst the trees, running towards him. They were both wolfed out but changed back as they reached him and saw no blood on his body.

“Son, are you OK?” “Stiles?”

“I’m fine, guys. Can’t say as much for this poor jerk over… well, here and there?” Stiles was perfectly aware he was kind of blubbering hysterically, but couldn’t stop. “That big piece of jerk, and the little round piece of jerk, the one that blinked at me from the forest floor? Guys, never piss off Peter Hale. Never piss off any Hales, for that matter. They really like to chew on their toys… Crunch, crunch… Oh! God! I’ll never get that sound out of my head!” He stamped his feet and whined, “And I’m missing my differential equations test! I’ll have to make it up, and I _hate_ make up tests! Couldn’t they have tried to kidnap me tomorrow? I wouldn’t mind missing chem, but I like differential equations, damnit!”

He knew he was losing the plot, but now that the adrenaline of the chase was wearing off, he suddenly felt almost nauseated with fear. His father pulled him up to his feet and into a strong hug. Scott plastered himself against his back and they just held him while Stiles embarrassingly lost his shit and started crying like a big baby.

He calmed down pretty quickly, considering, because nothing could feel grievous for long when set against a genuine Stilinski pack love sandwich. His dad and Scott knew just when to stop smothering him, and his dad offered him his handkerchief, the old fashioned square kind, made of linen with his dad’s initials embroidered in the corner, which he always carried in his pocket. 

Through the hundred of scraped knees, booboos and tear-worthy childhood tragedies, his dad’s hanky had always been there to help him mop himself back together, and the familiarity of the gesture made Stiles feel just as cherished as the hug had. Stiles wiped his face and blew his nose, loudly. He rolled the hanky in a ball and handed it back, his father not even hesitating before shoving it into his pocket, just like he had when Stiles was only a tiny toddler.

His brain rebooted and he felt bad he’d not yet asked about everybody else. “Are Allison and Parrish OK?”

“Yes, don’t worry, everybody’s good,” said the sheriff reassuringly, slapping him on the back as they started walking their way back. “You sure can run, son. I’m amazed how far you got with two alphas and a beta on your tail, all three of them wolfed out. I’ve never been more grateful that you convinced me to let you run with us at the full moon. And Allison, with that crossbow? That girl truly is a blessing to our pack. I’d never had dared try and make the shots she took, even with a riffle.”

They didn’t stop to look at the first body they passed, lying on the forest floor, though Stiles noted the arrow deeply embedded at the base of the man’s skull. The next one, a barefooted female, seemed to have hit a tree full force, her neck at a funny angle, an arrow in the lower part of her spine.

“Yeah. She’s amazing, my mate, a true shield to her packmates,” said Scott proudly.

The amazing girl in question came running toward them and threw herself at Stiles, who almost tumbled backwards.

“You’re OK! Oh, thank god! I’m so sorry! I couldn’t take that third shot, Stiles, the trees were in the way!”

Stiles hugged her tightly. “Allison, I… Thank you. Thank-you so much.” He couldn’t help but laugh. “That you managed the shots you took is unbelievable. You’re awesome. Wonderful. Incredible. Astonishing. Fabulous. Magnificent. Stupendous. Really, I have no words. Well, I obviously have a few, but not enough, nowhere near enough.”

She laughed too and quickly wiped her eyes. “I love you so much! I’d never forgive myself if something was to happen to you!”

Scott couldn’t resist and wrapped his arms around the both of them. John smiled and let the teenagers hug it out, going to speak to his deputy who was tightening the neckband of the standard restraints he was placing on an unconscious beta, his hands protected by snakeskin gloves against the wolfsbane infused polymer.

“What have we got?” asked the sheriff. 

“Two alphas and three betas wounded and healing, and one alpha dead. Deucalion, from the Deucalion pack out of the San Francisco bay area, the pack’s unmated Alpha. You got him between the eyes.”

“There are two dead alphas and one dead beta in the woods. What a mess.”

“Yeah. We can fine their pack for destruction of property, for the cruiser, and there would be reckless endangerment federal charges for risking derailing the train against their Alpha, but he is dead, so…we’ll have to let them go,” added Parrish, bitterly. “Nothing illegal in trying to kidnap an omega.”

“I know, I know. On the other hand, they’ll take four bodies home, and Peter Hale, Allison and I are immune from prosecution for whatever we had to do to protect said omega, so there’s that.”

The young deputy shook his head. “It’s out of hand, Sheriff. He should probably stop going to school. It’s too unsafe!”

“I know that, “ John agreed, but added angrily, “I don’t want to do that to him, though. It’s too fucking unfair. He didn’t ask for this.”

Two cruisers arrived, sirens blaring. Vern Boyd rolled down the passenger window of the first one, leaned across the front seat and yelled over the racket, “The news hounds are right behind me. Kids! Hop in quick. I’ll take you to school.”

Stiles, Allison and Scott ran to the car.

Parrish saw his boss hesitate and said, “Stay, sir. I’ll ride shotgun. It’s only a few minutes away. We’ll be fine. I… I’ll stay with him all day, if you want.”

The sheriff clapped him on the shoulder, walking with him. “Thanks, but you don’t need to do that. Just get them there safely, Ok?” He closed the door behind Scott, asked “All in?” and taped the roof of the car. “Let’s go!” Seconds later, the cruiser, siren now off, disappeared from sight.


	14. The boy and the wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, the Deucalion pack attempted to kidnap Stiles. After his close call with Matt a couple weeks before, it's becoming obvious something has to give.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter: Back stories. And... DEREK!!!

At lunch time, Cora Hale stopped by their table. Cora and Lydia had always enjoyed the same social status: Both were smart, from wealthy packs, and gorgeous, the crème de la crème of the high school. They moved in the same social circles.

“Lydia,” greeted Cora. Then to his surprise, she turned to Stiles. “Stilinski, you’re coming home with me this afternoon.”

“Uh? Not that I know of, no. Why would I? I do believe this is the first and only time you’ve even spoken to me, so…”

Cora rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I’m asking you for a date, moron. My mother wants to talk to you.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes, bristling at the casual disregard of his father’s dominion. “I have the greatest respect for Alpha Hale, and am grateful for the Hale pack’s protection of the township, but John Stilinski is my Alpha. His summon is the only one I answer to. If Alpha Hale wants to meet with me, she can go through my Alpha, as is customary.”

Cora Hale stared at him for a moment, her face expressionless. She lowered her eyes and then blew a strand of hair off her face before saying, looking at him once again. “My apologies, omega Stilinski. I was charged by Alpha Hale to communicate with you that she requested and was granted permission by Alpha Stilinski to meet with you at Hale house. Alpha Stilinski felt comfortable with the level of safety accorded by the presence of one of the senior Hale alphas during transport and accepted the Hale pack’s offer for you to share my ride to Hale house after class. If this is acceptable, perhaps you, your escort and I might meet in the front hall after the last bell?”

Stiles was surprised that she had made her request without the smallest trace of mockery or sarcasm, but in all seriousness. “See you there,” he answered, shrugging.

She nodded and started walking away, then stopped again. He looked up at her, expecting some kind of smart ass comment, so it was a shock when she said, “Uh… Stiles, I’m sorry I was rude. Force of habit, I guess, but that’s no excuse.” She blushed a brilliant red. “I… My family…” She seemed to be at a total loss for words and shrugged helplessly. “Thank you, OK? Just, thank you,” and she hurried off.

Stiles looked at Scott, then at Allison, then at Lydia, and all three appeared just as clueless as he did. “What was that about?” he asked, not expecting an answer. “That was weird, right?”

“Uh-huh,” agreed Lydia, looking thoughtful. “I mean, you were totally right about taking exception at the slight on your dad…”

“Yeah, Dude, good going!” agreed Scott, reaching for a fist bump, smiling at his packmate.

“…so her apology there was totally justified, but then, she was so formal!” continued Lydia.

“Yeah. I thought she was being sarcastic, but she wasn’t, was she?” said Erica. “And why did she apologize to you?”

“Well, she was rude to Stiles!” cried Allison in his defense. “Calling him a moron!”

“I didn’t take offense to that though,” said Stiles. “I think her rudeness is just a way to distance herself, right?” He looked at Lydia, who nodded in agreement. “Can you imagine the number of people who would try to insinuate themselves into her inner circle just because of who her mother is if she wasn’t so abrasive? Believe me. I’m starting to get that!”

“Yeah. It is weird that she apologized to you for that,” agreed Jackson, “and what was she thanking you for?”

“I don’t have a clue,” admitted Stiles.

“Has she Sorted yet?” asked Danny.

“No,” answered Lydia, who kept track of such thing. “Hers is the strawberry moon. But she’ll be an alpha, though. All of Talia Hale’s children are alphas, and Cora’s SASSH is already 19. And, you know, all the born Hales have mates, the alphas _and_ the betas. They just do, always have had, so it’s not as if she wants to be nice to Stiles just in case.”

The bell rang, bringing them back to more immediate concerns than Cora Hale’s weird behavior.

“Ugh. Harris,” muttered Stiles. 

Lydia smirked at him.

“You’re just hoping he hates me enough to give me a lesser grade than I deserve,” griped Stiles.

“Just keep antagonizing him, Stiles. I’ve already written my Valedictorian speech. I wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

“What have I ever done to him?” whined Stiles.

“Breathed?” offered Boyd. 

Scott slapped his shoulder encouragingly. “He’s an unmated alpha. Perhaps your pheromones will finally get to him today,” he suggested hopefully.

~o~

Stiles, Boyd and Jackson met Cora in the front hall after the last bell, and they all walked out together, making their way to the black Camaro that was waiting, engine running, at the bottom of the steps. Cora got in the back seat, and Stiles sat in the front. He hardly had time to say goodbye and buckle up before they peeled out of the parking lot, cutting off a few other cars to get out onto the street first.

“You should have sat in the front Cora. The back seat is safer,” said the driver, not taking his eyes off the road. He looked like the man Stiles had noticed watching the team practice, one of Alpha Hale’s sons, Parrish had said.

“Yeah, well, his legs are longer, so…” said Cora.

“His safety is more important than his comfort.”

“And _he_ is right here in the car! Hi! I’m Stiles. And you are?”

The driver snorted.

“Sorry, Stiles. That’s my bother Derek. You two have met, actually, the night of your Sorting. His wolf is as big as his heart and as black as his soul.”

Derek glared at her in the rear-view mirror, and Stiles chuckled but quickly added, “Hey, Dude, then, thank you. I never got a chance to say it the day you stopped Daehler from… you know. But I am so, so grateful. I owe you big time. I hope you didn’t cut yourself too badly on that glass. I mean I know you can heal, obviously, but still. And I’m not sure if it’s you or your brother who watches us practice, but I know it was your uncle who jumped in this morning, and well, I really owe all of you for…”

“You do not owe us anything,” said Derek, quite forcefully, interrupting him. “The Hale pack is grateful for the opportunity to offer you protection.” Uh. He certainly sounded more annoyed than grateful. 

“Ooookay. But, uh, why? Is it because the township is under pack Hale's aegis? Or is it because I’m ‘A blessing to whole of wolfdom’?” Stiles asked, pronouncing his least favorite phrase with ridiculous gravitas.

Cora cracked up in the back.

Derek took his eyes off the road for the first time, and made eye contact with Stiles for a few seconds before looking forward again. His eye color was a mix of green, gold and brown and his eyelashes were thick and dark. The contrast was _gorgeous_ , as was the rest of his face, despite the severe expression. Stiles had almost forgotten he had even asked a question when Derek answered it. 

“Many reasons. For one thing, our mother loved your mother like a sister,” he said, finally.

“Uh?” Stiles thought he had misheard.

“Your mother was our mother’s closest friend. Our mom would never let anything bad happen to you,” added Cora, seriously, as Derek nodded.

Stiles looked at his profile, frowning. For some reason, it angered him that someone he didn’t know should claim some connection to his mother. She had been the heart and warmth of their small pack, the love of his father’s life, Melissa’s best friend, and had made everything good and bright in her son’s life, but she had also been an intensely introverted person, uninterested in socializing with anyone outside of the Stilinski pack. 

“I hate to contradict you, guys, but I don’t think our moms even knew each other. I’m pretty sure the first time I ever met your mom was in the woods, the night of my Sorting moon. She never came to our house that I know of, and didn’t even visit my mom when she was in the hospital, which I would know, ‘cause I basically never left her. And she wasn’t there the day we buried her, either. I was only ninety-eight moons when my mom died, and I was pretty overwhelmed at the time, but I think I would remember if Alpha Talia Hale had graced my mother’s funeral with her presence.”

“My mother was _devastated_ by your mother’s death,” said Derek. “She was pregnant at the time, and went into labor early when she heard. It was not an easy delivery. She gave birth to our twin brother and sister the day of your mother’s funeral.”

Oh. Well, now Stiles felt a bit like an ass for his barely hidden sarcasm. Still. How could Claudia Sofer-Stilinski have been so close to Talia Hale if Stiles could not even remember the woman ever spending any time with his reclusive mother? 

He didn’t have time to dwell on that conundrum because, as the car turned into a long, tree bordered driveway, he apparently suddenly remembered he was soon to be in the presence of the most powerful Alpha he would probably ever meet and proceeded to quietly freak out. 

Much too soon for his taste, the Camaro pulled in front of an enormous house, more of a mansion really. It didn’t help his jitters any that a whole lot of people, like an actual _crowd_ seem to be waiting for them. 

Someone opened his car door, Derek’s brother, obviously; they looked so much alike. Stiles got out and was astonished to see, standing slightly ahead of everyone else, a regal woman with long black hair, whose resemblance to Cora left him in no doubt that she was Alpha Talia Hale herself, come to greet him in person.

Feeling thoroughly intimidated, he approached her, lowering his eyes, ready to bare his neck in respect, his instincts responding to her powerful aura, when, laughing, Talia rushed him and wrapped him in her arms, enveloping him in a tight hug. 

“Oh, Stiles!” she said joyfully. “Welcome back to Hale house! You have been sorely missed!”

While her welcome made no sense to him, his body immediately relaxed in her affectionate embrace, the light scent she wore achingly familiar, a rush of warm emotions filling his heart. Without a thought, he happily returned the hug. 

Then he suddenly understood. L’Air du Temps. His mother’s perfume. Talia Hale wore his mother’s perfume. A reawakened feeling of loss and sorrow threatened to choke him, and he swallowed back the tears that threatened to spill. 

He stepped back from her as she let him go, having probably sensed his distress.

“You smell like my mom,” he explained, his voice sounding so young, and breaking a little despite his effort.

She cupped his face with her hands, her eyes filled with pained understanding. “Oh, Stiles, I’m so sorry. Of course I would. It was so thoughtless of me…”

To a werewolf, the perfume would have been only a minor component of her olfactory signature, what a necklace might have been to a complete outfit, but to his human nose, it was much more than that, the delicate perfume that meant “Mommy”, love, comfort, kisses, and bottomless grief. She obviously understood that.

He swallowed hard, and took a deep breath. “It’s all right. I’m all right. It’s …nice to smell that perfume again.” He looked up at her, quite forgetting his manners, forgetting the obeisance the youngest member of a minor pack owed the Alpha of a most powerful one. “You really knew my mom, then?” he asked eagerly. He loved the idea of meeting someone else who had been connected to Claudia Sofer-Stilinski. She was hardly ever mentioned in the Stilinski pack, his father keeping the memories of his wife locked in his heart.

She nodded, grinning, her eyes just a little too bright. “And I see so much of her in you. Your eyes, the shape of your face, your beauty marks…”

Her voice was so full of affection and warmth, Stiles could not help but smile.

“And her smile! You have her smile.” She smiled back at him. “Oh, please, please, come in. Ignore the crowd: we were all looking forward to seeing you again. But for now, let’s just go inside. We have so much to talk about.”

As they passed, people acknowledged him with a smile, a nod, or a friendly greeting. He smiled back, because though he didn’t understand, their affection felt so genuine. He followed Talia through several large rooms and corridors until they entered a beautiful sunny room with three of the walls lined with full bookshelves, and, in the fourth one, two sets of French doors opening onto a beautiful garden. 

A big desk and its slightly beat up looking swivel leather chair occupied one of the corners. On it, several neat piles of paper held down by glass paperweights looked a lot like work waiting to be done.

On the other side of the room, comfortable looking sofas and armchairs formed a large conversation area in front of a fireplace. 

“This is my office,” Talia said. She slipped off her shoes and plopped down in a loveseat, tucking her legs under herself, as the few other people who had come along also made themselves at home. “Please, sit, sit!” she said to him. “Relax, It’s just us, now. Just family.” 

Next to her was a man with graying hair, green eyes and a muscular built who had his hand casually resting around her ankle. Talia smiled at him.

“Stiles,” she said, “this is my mate and second, Joshua.” 

Joshua grinned at him. “Hey Stiles. I can’t believe you are so grown up.” He chortled to himself, and added, “I changed your diapers a few times when you were a baby. You peed on me every time!”

OK. Well, that was embarrassing. “Uh… Sorry?”

Talia laughed, and continued with her introductions. “You’ve informally met that man in the armchair next to you, who always looks as if he knows something we don’t. He is my Left Hand, my brother Peter.” Peter winked at him, sending a bit of a shiver down Stiles back. He tried not to picture the way the grey wolf had licked its chops that morning. 

Talia continued, “Sitting on the arm of his chair is Pip, his son.” Pip looked about thirteen, give or take a few moons. He smiled at Stiles, a bright, friendly smile. His hair was so blond it was almost white; his eyes, like his father’s, were very blue, but contrary to his father’s rather chilling aura, Pips demeanor exuded fun and loving kindness.

Talia went on. “These gentlemen,” she gestured to the two men leaning side by side against one of the bookcases, “are two of our three grown sons. Michael is our eldest.” The man grinned and raised his hand in greeting. “Derek is the third born, and the Hale pack’s next Left Hand.” Derek’s eyes met with Stiles’, captivating, and after a moment Stiles had to force himself to look away. 

The brothers were much alike in built and features, though Michael’s hair was brown and his eyes bright green, his face open and smiling while Derek’s hair was black and his expression stern. Yet, though Michael was handsome, Derek, despite his downcast expression, was mesmerizing.

“Samuel, our fourth born, is currently at university, in Princeton Township, but he will be home for the strawberry moon, for Cora’s Sorting.”

A young woman came in carrying a large tray with a huge pitcher of lemonade, glasses, and plates of cookies she could not have lifted had she not been an alpha. “This perfect hostess (the girl rolled her eyes) is our second born, Laura.” 

Laura grinned at him. “Hey there, half-pint!” She frowned. “I guess I can’t call you half-pint anymore, eh. You’re taller than me!” She added affectionately, “You still look like you though.” She seemed friendly and easy going, and had the same athletic femininity as Cora, though her face was more angular, her nose sharper, her looks closer to her brothers. She plopped herself down in one of the armchair and swung her jeans clad legs over the arm. 

Talia said, “You have met Cora, of course.” She added teasingly, “Actually, you two used to take baths together!” Cora looked at him with a mildly horrified expression, and he must have worn much the same because they both cracked up. 

“Next to her is our sixth born, Nora. She is actually smarter and wiser than all of us put together, and she knows everything.” 

“We don’t need Google. We have Nora,” added her dad with a grin.

Nora had brown, curly hair, and green eyes, like her brother Michael. She rolled her eyes at her parents’ remarks, exactly as her sister had done, and smiled at Stiles.

“Finally,” Talia concluded, “the two grinning monkeys over here are Claudia and Rumi, our twins and youngest.” The kids giggled, the boy pretending to scratch under his arms while making monkey faces and noises.

Wow. Talia and Joshua had eight children? _Eight children!_ It was unbelievable. He had never known _anyone_ who had more than three and had only heard a few times about couples who had four. Eight? Talia’s immediate family was bigger than most of the packs in the township! 

Cora offered him a glass of lemonade and broke his train of thought, and the names of the twins registered. “Is Claudia named after my mom?” he asked. The little girl in question smiled proudly at him. She had her uncle Peter’s strikingly blue eyes, and her mother’s raven hair. Both her upper front teeth were missing. 

”Yes, she is. Your mom and I grew up together. Her pack, the Sofer pack, was just her and her parents and their tiny land abutted the Hale territory. We found each other, as kids do, and since I only had a brother and seven male cousins, she and I were a team. She actually lived at Hale House for a few years after her parents died.”

Yet, Stiles did not recall his mom ever mentioning the Hales. How strange was that? The name “Rumi” resonated with him as well, though Stiles did not know why. It was nagging at him, for some reason.

“Is Rumi named after someone too?” he asked. 

Talia smiled. “Ah, but Rumi is _your_ namesake, Stiles, and your grandfather’s, though no one but his mate ever called _him_ anything other than Alpha Sofer. Rumi was your nickname until you were close to three years old. Don’t you remember?”

Claudia had loved her father very much, and had given his first name to her son, even though it was atrocious. According to the family’s lore, they were descended from a miller’s daughter, who had married a king, and named her first child Rumplestilskin, after a goblin. The name was still given to first sons, every few generations. Thankfully, everyone had always called Stiles by a nickname. And now that he thought about it, that nickname had not always been Stiles.

“I kind of remember. Maybe? Rumi. Yeah. People did call me that. Why did Mom start calling me Stiles instead?” He knew his mother had made up _that_ nickname, and that most people thought it was because of his last name, a misunderstanding he was happy to cultivate… 

“That’s a long story, Stiles, one filled with tragedy, love and sacrifice,” answered Talia. “It’s been the Hale pack’s children’s favorite story for years, and the reason why everyone wanted to be present to greet you when you finally returned to Hale House.”

“Are you gonna tell it, Mommy? Right now?” asked Rumi. He too was missing his front teeth. He had a mop of brown curls and his eyes were hazel.

“Yes, I am,” answered Talia, opening her arms.

The twins left the couch and squeezed in the loveseat, crowding their parents. “There are some scary bits,” explained Claudia to Stiles, from the protection of her mother’s arms.

“I’m not scared! I just like to cuddle,” protested Rumi. Joshua chuckled as Talia smiled and began.

“Once upon a time,” she said, “There were two girls, the best of friends, closer than sisters, who grew up together in the woods. Even after they were Sorted and married they still lived in each other’s pockets. One, Talia, became the Alpha of a big pack, and had lots and lots of unruly children. The other, Claudia, married the Alpha of a small pack, and had one cute little boy, loving and boisterous, she called Rumi. He was like a little brother to Talia’s children. 

“Now, living nearby in the township was a woman named Kate, who had been born in a family of Hunters, the Argents, the daughter of the Alpha and of her evil mate, Gerard, a man who thought werewolves were more beasts than men. Kate grew up tainted by his beliefs and was evil like her father. She thought that werewolves who could become full wolves were the worst of them all. Therefore, she viewed Talia’s pack as an abomination, one that had to be removed from the face of the earth.

“Evil Kate stole a sweaty Lacrosse uniform from the school locker of Talia’s oldest son, Michael, so she could mask her scent with his. On the evening when the thunder moon was new and the sky dark, when the werewolves senses are at their weakest, and as the pack celebrated the anniversary of Talia and Joshua’s mating, she sneaked up to Hale house and encircle it with an unbroken line of mountain ash, capturing everyone inside with no hopes of escape. Then, she set the house on fire! Talia’s whole pack and Claudia and her little son, who were there for the celebration, could do nothing but wait for death… 

“Oh, they tried to push at the mountain ash barrier, to break it, but even the strongest alphas’ attempts were in vain. From the oldest to the youngest, the werewolves felt the power of the mountain ash weighing upon them, and accepted their fate. In despair, they gathered in the library, in the center of the house, and used whatever time remained to hold each other and say goodbye to one another. One after the other, overwhelmed by the smoke coming from underneath the doors, they collapsed.

“Unlike the other children, Rumi would not stay calmly in his mother’s arms, or, after Claudia collapsed, in Talia’s embrace, or even pressed against Peter’s chest, even though Peter had always been his favorite. He kicked and fought and cried to be let go. They thought he didn’t understand what was going on, or was frightened by the flames, until Peter, the Alpha’s Left Hand, finally gave up and put him down. Rumi held on to his hand and dragged him along to the door.

“Without hesitation, Rumi grabbed the burning hot door handle of the library and despite the pain when it burned his hand, opened it. Peter’s mate followed them as Rumi crawled along the smoky corridor, then through the flames, across the family room and through the entry until he reached the front door, never letting go of Peter. Rumi opened the front door wide, crying in pain from his burns and, with a swipe of his pudgy little blistered hand, he broke the mountain ash circle, as if he’d always known he could, freeing the werewolves. 

“Nina, Peter’s mate, was the first one to step out of the burning house after him. Kate, the evil woman who hated wolves, was waiting outside and shot beautiful Nina through the neck with a wolfsbane bullet, and Nina fell. Peter rushed to attack evil Kate, to stop her from hurting anyone else, but he could not reach her because she had placed herself inside another circle of mountain ash.

“She laughed at Peter and taunted him, as he tried again and again to reach her, and shot him in the thigh, then in the shoulder, but he kept attacking her, pushing at her mountain ash barrier, distracting her enough for Talia and a few other alphas in the pack, who had not yet succumbed to the smoke and had felt the barrier fall, to be able to carry every one of the werewolves out of the burning house and to safety.

Before evil Kate could kill Peter, Rumi, despite his burns and the pain in his lungs from the smoke, managed to get to his favorite wolf’s side and break her circle of ash. Peter made sure she would never, ever hurt another wolf and threw her remains into the flames of the burning house. Then, deathly wounded and sick at heart, he returned to his Nina’s side.

“Nina was gone, but she had been carrying Peter’s child. With his claw, Peter opened her womb and freed his baby, well over a month before the little one was due to enter the world. But Nina had been brave and beautiful and strong, and her baby son was too. He took his first breath, and cried. Peter had lost his mate, but he had saved his son. 

“Rumi, back in his mother’s arms, asked him what the name of the baby was, and Peter said he didn’t know. He asked Rumi what he thought it should be, and Rumi answered ‘Pip’. So Peter named his son Pip.

“The fire department came, and the sheriff, of course, with an ambulance for Rumi, but nothing could be done for the house. 

The evil woman was dead and gone, but Peter knew that her father, far away in France, was even more evil than she had been, so it was decided that no one should be told what had happened that day. Yet, somehow, a rumor started. Thankfully, it was inaccurate.

 _A human named Rumi had killed evil Kate and saved the Hale pack from destruction._

“Kate’s evil father heard the rumors, all the way from France. He did not know the truth, but he knew enough to be dangerous. He might send spies out to find out more. He, his family and their allies were resourceful, powerful, and out for revenge. 

“To protect Rumi, and so he would not have to live in fear of retaliation from the Hunters, Claudia changed his nickname. Rumi and Claudia had never needed anyone outside of the Hales and of their own pack, and Rumi’s father had mostly talked about him to his friends as “My boy”, so no one was the wiser. 

“Claudia and Talia decided to stay apart, so that by the time Claudia’s boy would start school and have his first SASSH test, and it became widely known that he was fully human, there would be nothing tying him to the Hale pack in any way.

“The Hale house was rebuilt and the Hale pack became stronger than ever. Talia and Claudia missed each other dreadfully, but stayed apart. The evil man’s spies wasted their time uselessly searching for a human strong enough to defeat evil Kate, experienced enough to foil her plans, a human whose name was Rumi. 

“Claudia’s pack took in a young couple with a boy Claudia’s son’s age when they sought refuge in the township after their pack was destroyed in a territory war. The boys became best friends, as close as brothers, and being only three, Claudia’s son soon forgot the pack of werewolves whose lives he had saved. But they never forgot him. They promised to watch over him, always and forever. The end.”

Stiles was stunned. After his mother’s death, he had had nightmares of flames and smoke, and panic attacks. They had eventually gone away, and he had never known why they had occurred in the first place. He had no conscious memory of the Hales, or of the fire at their house.

“I don’t remember any of this,” he admitted.

“Your mother and father never spoke of it, nor of us, for your safety, and the rumor died down quickly, with both the sheriff and the head of the Alpha council working together to make sure it did. We acted as if nothing had ever happened. But the Hale pack owes you more life debts than it can ever repay, and we are glad to be able to provide you with our protection, now that you need it,” said Talia.

“What about Gerard Argent? Is he related to Allison? To Chris and Victoria Argent?” asked Stiles.

Peter snorted, and Talia explained, “Chris is Kate’s brother, and Gerard’s son. Four years ago, my dear brother and Left Hand went on an unscheduled vacation to “Florida” for four whole weeks, without warning his only sister or getting permission from his Alpha. Needless to say, I wasn’t pleased with him, especially when a week later, I learned from some of our allies on the east coast that Gerard Argent had returned to America. Argent was visiting a Hunter’s pack, or family as they call themselves, in Boston township, and I was unable to contact Peter to let him know. 

“Gerard was apparently planning on going on to California within days, but luckily, his plans were delayed when an alpha werewolf went feral after losing his mate in northern Maine, and the Hunters were called upon to help bring him down. 

Strangely enough, the rogue was never caught nor was he ever heard from again, and Gerard and three other experienced Hunters mysteriously disappeared in the northern woods, without a trace, never to be seen again.”

She smiled at her brother who looked at her innocently. “Shortly thereafter, Peter returned from his “Florida” vacation, ignorant of the whole affair! We only forgave him because he brought us back delicious treats from his trip: Maple syrup, fresh blackberries and blackberry jam, frozen lobsters and some delicious cookies called Whoopie pies, which he swore were all well known _Florida_ specialties.”

Stiles looked at her in disbelief, only to catch the glint of humor in her eye before she cracked up.

“Chris Argent was Kate’s brother, but he is nothing like his father or sister,” said Peter. “He is a good man, and a fine Hunter. His wife is a separatist, but she lives by the Hunter’s honor code. Hunters have their place in our world. Your father and I have worked with Chris many times, when he and his family lived in Beacon Hills township before his sister tried to murder us all, and since he was allowed to return. I trust him, and I know how highly your pack values his daughter.”

“Allison’s is a great packmate, the best,” agreed Stiles.

“It is no longer Hunters we have to protect you from, Stiles, but unscrupulous werewolves,” said Talia. “I feel it is time for the Hale pack to make a statement to those who might try to prevent you from finding your ideal mate in your own time. I just wanted to speak to you and your Alpha and see what you thought.”

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in!”

“Talia?” said a young woman. “The sheriff is here.” She ushered John in.

Stiles was impressed when all present, including Alpha Hale, got up to greet his dad. John bowed his head slightly to Talia, “Alpha Hale,” “Alpha Stilinski”, but shook hands and greeted the rest of the adults as friends and equal.

“Why don’t you all go on with your day?” Talia suggested to her family. “I can handle it from here.”

The adults left with a few words of goodbye, but Peter and the three youngest Hales remained.

“Can I show Stiles my room?” Pip asked his dad, pleadingly.

“Not today, son,” answered Peter. “There are things the Alphas may need to speak to him about.”

“Mom? Can’t he come and play with us? Please?” asked Claudia and Rumi.

“You heard your uncle. I’m sure Stiles will be back. You’ll get your chance. Now, shoo. Out with you. I’m sure there’s homework to be done.”

The mention of homework got them going, but not until Pip had appropriated a full plate of shortbread cookies. Talia and Peter pretended not to notice.

Talia sat at her desk, Peter leaning on the bookcase to her left, while John and Stiles sat in the chairs facing her, giving the conversation a more official feel. John reached over and squeezed Stiles shoulder, asking softly, “Are you OK, son?”

Was he OK? Not really. It had been a very long day and it seemed as if it was far from over. He had had no time to process any of the emotional upheavals he had experienced and he felt stretched awfully thin. There was certainly plenty Stiles wanted to speak about with his dad, but this was neither the time nor the place, so he held back and just nodded.

“Alpha Stilinski, is it all right if my Left Hand participates in our talk?” asked the Hale Alpha, formally.

“It is. I know you value his council.” 

“So. Any problems with the Deucalion pack?” asked Talia.

“No,” answered the sheriff. “Our prisoners were picked up by federal marshalls, and Kali and Ennis’ son Malcom, a mated alpha, is the new pack Alpha. He already sent me an official request for an agreement of “No further retaliation”, which I approved. There should be no further problems.”

“Well, that’s good,” said Talia. 

Stiles wasn’t sure what to think about that. The people who had actively sought to kidnap him and survived were in federal custody, but not for trying to snatch him against his will. It rankled that it was legal for them to grab him and rape him, but not to recklessly endanger the train’s passengers. Once they pleaded that they had only been following their Alpha’s injunction, they would be released, and would simply go home, as if nothing had ever happened. 

He had struggled all day to keep the memories of that morning a bay, worried he might otherwise be too overwhelmed by the terrifying thoughts of what might have been to function, but still, part of him had wanted to go home, climb in bed, and never come out again. He found that the current conversation was not helping.

“As weakened as their pack is,” remarked Peter, “they’ll have a hard time holding on to their assets.” 

Talia dismissed that thought with a wave of her hand. “What happens to them is none of our concern. We just have to make sure what took place this morning does not happen again.”

“Yes,” agreed John. “That was a close call.”

Stiles wondered how it could possibly be prevented from happening again, but the Alphas were speaking among themselves, so no matter how much he wanted to ask, his instinct forced him to wait until he was spoken to.

“I assume that gun Stiles was carrying was loaded with wolfsbane bullets,” said Peter. “Though I was glad to help, I believe your deputy and the youngsters in your pack would have handled the situation, even without my intervention. Both do you credit, John.”

 _Glad to help_. Stiles could still clearly hear the sound of Peter’s wolf crunching the man’s vertebra, see the eyes of the severed head blink. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, holding himself rigid in the chair, concentrating on controlling his heart rate. He chose to think back to Allison’s hug that morning. Scott was so lucky to have such a wonderful, sweet and caring mate. He took a calmer breath. 

“Thank you,” said John. “Still, the department’s resources are spread thin by the situation, and my pack is under a lot of stress. We were forced to curtail my second’s son mating celebration to a minimum, and while neither Scott nor Allison minded the sacrifice, it was unfair to them. My boy is a prisoner in his own home, and although we are protected by mountain ash, a pack as determined as the Deucalion pack, with a human packmember, could easily breach our defenses and invade Stilinski House. Anything the Hale pack could do to help bring some normalcy back in our lives would be much appreciated.” 

Stiles’ anxiety ratcheted up another notch. Even though it should have been obvious, he had not thought until that moment about the possibility of a human outside his own pack being able to eradicate what he had considered their main protection. He had felt safe within the Stilinski territory, and had been able to let his guard down completely at home. Now that he realized that his sense of safety had been only an illusion and the constant danger he and his pack were actually in, how was he ever to relax, to sleep?

“I do not want to overstep, Alpha Stilinski, or to give you the erroneous impression that I do not feel you are up to the task of caring for your pack,” said Talia. “I only seek to help.”

“Alpha Hale… Talia. You can quit the caveats. We are both Alphas, yes, and I am aware you think well enough of me, but I have less pack members than you have children, for heaven’s sake. My pride is much less important to me than protecting my boy. What do you propose?”

“All right. Well, I was thinking we should have a press conference,” explained Talia. “I could announce to the world at large that the Hale pack, which official role is to defend the Beacon Hills Township against outside aggression, has decided, because his presence has created situations disturbing the peace and endangering the community, to extend its role to the personal protection of young omega Stilinski: That from this day forward, any attempt whatever to coerce him to mate against his will would be considered an attack against the Township at large, triggering the same strong and determinate response any such attack would deserve and therefore result in immediate retaliation, bringing to bear the wrath of the Hale pack against the offender.”

“Oh, yes,” said Peter, grinning approvingly.

“This expansion of your role will need the approval of the Alpha council,” remarked John.

“I do not believe it will be hard to obtain,” said Talia. “First of all, thanks to Stiles’ connection with their children, we will have the support of the Whittemore, Martin, Reyes and Boyd Alphas, as well as the Alphas of your and their allied packs within the township. Second, it will decrease the pressure on the Sheriff’s department, and allow it to resume its normal functions. And finally, I think you underestimate your popularity within our community. I cannot think of any Alpha who would not go to great length to help you and your family.”

“Our community has been extraordinarily supportive,” admitted John. He was quiet for a moment. “Without the threat of outside attacks, and if, in addition to his friends support, you and your pack were willing to continue insuring Stiles protection within our community, my department could go back to concentrate on its actual role. If only there was a way to get rid of the press as well, ours and everyone else’s lives could almost return to normal.”

No one seemed to have any doubt the threat of an open conflict with the Hales would keep all outside packs in line. After living through that morning’s attack, stiles really hoped they were not overestimating the extent of their influence. 

What if a pack disregarded their threat and succeeded in taking him? By the time the Hales retaliated, he would be mated to someone in the offending pack. No matter if that mating had been voluntary or not, he would love his mate, love his new pack. Would they then attack anyway, destroying what had become most precious to him? Would they murder his mate, condemning him to a life of sorrow and loneliness? What would be the point of that?

Would a pack not take the chance that once Stiles was mated to one of their own, and that hurting them would hurt him, the Hales would just be forced to accept the fait accompli, or have to punish him as well? 

Was he the only one thinking about this or was his father unable to voice his doubts out of respect for Talia Hale? Was the Hales’ reputation truly that powerful? It seemed so, as their focus had now moved on to controlling the media.

“Perhaps if Stiles, well, _omega Stilinski_ was officially presented to the public, the Township could rescind all general press passes,” mused Talia. “The press hounds _are_ driving everyone crazy.” 

“Then Stiles could voluntarily answer a few pre-approved questions from vetted reporters,” agreed his dad. “He could do so on a monthly basis, perhaps, satisfying the public’s thirst for gossip fodder.”

Was his dad serious? What made him think that Stiles would be comfortable answering personal questions on the national News? Did he not know his son _at all_?? Did he not remember what happened any time Stiles opened his mouth in a stressful situation? 

“What do you think of all of this, Stiles?” asked Talia.

She could probably not have chosen a worse time to finally allow him to speak. The emotional maelstrom of his doubts, anger, fears and worries had reached a boiling point. Overwrought, his brain _naturally_ picked the most inappropriate and irrelevant topic possible to comment on.

“You have eight children! Dad, did you know that Talia and Joshua Hale have eight kids? EIGHT KIDS! Are they werewolves or wererabbits? Who has eight kids?” 

Oh god. Had he really just said that? He peripherally noted that Peter burst out laughing, that his dad hid his face in his hands and that Talia chuckled before his mind bounced in another direction and his mouth poured forth more of his unfiltered jumbled thoughts. 

“And Dad, why did you keep this whole saving the Hales from a fire story from me all these years? Do you know how much easier it would have been to put up with being constantly bullied in school if I had known what a bad-ass toddler I had been? That I was not a total loser?”

Suddenly, the humiliation and pain of years of abuse by his classmates rushed to the surface, and Stiles became overwhelmingly upset. He frowned at Alpha Hale. “Why did Cora always act like I was something her cat threw up?” he asked her accusingly. “I’m not saying she had to be my best friend, but had she at least treated me like someone worthy of her kindness and respect, Jackson Whittemore and his friends might have eased up on me a little. _“They promised to watch over him, always and forever”_? Ha! I guess she was exempt!”

“Ouch!” commented Peter. 

He should have stayed quiet, because Stiles jumped to his feet and turned on him next, crying angrily, “And you! You! Are you trying to scar me for life? You _bit_ that man’s head off! It rolled at my feet and _blinked_ at me! How am I supposed to ever get that image out of my head? And that horrible crunching noise! Did you think it was funny to just sit there afterwards and lick your bloody chops? Do you get off on traumatizing people?”

Shell-shocked by his outburst, all three adults in the room were now staring at him, dismayed expressions on their faces, and Stiles realized he had just totally lost his shit, thrown an absolute tantrum and yelled at the very people who had, until minutes ago, been making plans on how to go about making his life safer and easier. 

Aghast at himself, he ran from the room, wanting nothing more than to disappear. Not thinking further than his need to escape, he rushed to what looked like a back door and dashed out. 

Unthinking, he sprinted past a laundry line and made his way into the woods. As soon as he found a tree large enough to hide him from the house, he leaned against it and slid to the ground, curling in on himself. It’s not as if he could actually hide from werewolves if they decided to find him. He just needed a few minutes alone, away from the constant attention he had lived with for weeks, to try and get himself together.

Oh, god! What the hell was wrong with him? He had yelled at _Alpha Hale_! And at her Left Hand, who apparently _killed_ people on a regular basis! He’d made a fool of himself and embarrassed his dad. Worse, he’d embarrassed _his Alpha_! He shivered with shame, hid his face between his knees and just keened in misery. 

It took a while for the abnormal quietness of the woods to register through his self-loathing. Then, he almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a branch snap. Although he intellectually knew he was safe, well within the Hale territory, and only a stone throw from the Hale house, he couldn’t help but start to panic, his imagination overriding his good sense.

Ready to flee, he looked up, expecting who knows what, only to find Derek Hale, his black hair and his forbidding presence unmistakable, coming towards him from deeper in the woods. Stiles sighed. Of course, if he was to be discovered hiding from the consequences of his loss of control and generally behaving like a child, it would be by Derek, the one Hale sibling he felt he had no hope to impress in the first place.

“You shouldn’t be alone, even this close to our home,” Derek said, crossing his arms and glaring at Stiles.

Stiles answered, “At this point, being kidnapped might be a small mercy.”

Derek frowned, surprising Stiles with a look of concern. “You didn’t like the suggestions my mother made?” He sat against the tree next to Stiles, their shoulders touching. “You can tell her so, if that’s the case, you know? I know that as Alpha Hale, she can be intimidating, but she’s just a regular person underneath. Think of her as our mom, or as your mother’s best friend, if that can make it easier.”

“Oh, god! Don’t remind me! That makes it even worse!” cried Stiles. He hid his face in his hands again.

Derek sighed heavily, as if he already regretted his momentary lapse into kindness and bitterly deplored having put himself in the position of having to listen to some idiotic teenager’s drama. 

“What the hell did you do,” he prodded, as if duty-bond to follow through.

Hurt by Derek apparent complete lack of empathy, Stiles looked up at him. “I made a complete ass of myself in front of my Alpha, as well as in front of the most powerful Alpha in the western United States. And I insulted a man who, this morning, helped save me from being raped and having my personality erased forever. Please, feel free to leave and let me dwell on my bad choices alone if listening to me is too much of an imposition. I don’t need to add _boring Derek “Put upon” Hale_ to the list of my sins.”

Derek glared at him for a moment, his eyes so unfairly beautiful. “There, there. See, not bored or put upon,” he finally deadpanned. “ _Warm and caring_.” 

His sarcasm surprised a chuckle out of Stiles. He saw flash of satisfaction on Derek’s face at his reaction. It seemed Derek cared about his state of mind, at least, if not for his woes. Derek raised his eyebrows, which looked like an invitation to explain himself.

“I told your Alpha that her _“They promised to watch over him, always and forever“_ was lip service because Cora had always been horrible to me.”

“Ah.” Derek nodded in understanding. “Well, you heard the Rumi story. That’s the way my mother always tells it. She _never_ mentions the new nickname Claudia gave her son. So even after growing up hearing it, and loving that awesomely brave little boy, Cora had no way of knowing it was you,” he explained. “She only learned who you were after your Sorting, when she asked why we all felt compelled to watch over you even when others were already doing so. Don’t get me wrong, it doesn’t excuse Cora’s behavior, she can be a real jerk. But I’m sure, however, that my mother appreciates why you might have found it confusing.”

Oh. Well, that made sense. “I was pretty rude to her, though,” admitted Stiles, cringing.

“Stiles, she is raising her fifth teenager. I think she can handle a bit of mouthiness. What did you say to my uncle?”

“I yelled at him? He helped me this morning, and I yelled at him. I know I should be grateful, I really do! But, well… I asked him if he got off on traumatizing people. He _decapitated_ a guy, Derek! _With his teeth!_ And then, he sat there like nothing, licking the blood off his fur. It was… horrible!” Stiles didn’t want Derek to think he was just whining. He looked at him and said earnestly, “Really, Derek. It was horrifying. And I really think he was being a creep about it _on purpose_.”

“Oh, you didn’t imagine it. He was. He works hard to maintain a terrifying persona: Close to a psychopath as a human, and almost feral as a wolf. That’s what makes him such an effective Left Hand, even though he is only a beta.” 

“Aren’t a lot of Left Hands betas? The Left Hand of my dad’s brother’s pack, the Merrit pack in Montana, where I spent last summer, he said Left Hands needed charisma, not strength, and he was a beta.”

“How many people are in the Merrit pack, Stiles? Thirty, fifty?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“And their assets are, what, a large territory, with forests, rivers and mountains, a huge pack house surrounded by gardens and perhaps a sapphire mine.”

“I don’t know about a mine, but otherwise, yes.”

“The Hale pack handles all contacts between the five hundred and twelve packs of the Beacon Township and the outside world. The one hundred and ninety six Hale werewolves (a number that is kept secret, by the way) protect four thousand six hundred and forty two individuals. 

“The assets of the township are too numerous to list, but include an enormous territory with complex infrastructure including a power plant, an airport, schools and a hospital. It also includes the Whittemore Corporation which is the largest technological company in the United States and Martin High-Tech Manufacturing. 

“The majority of packs in the united States are like the Merrit pack. Less than fifty wolves, self sustained, in large isolated territories, and they are well serve by their beta Left Hands. But packs with over one hundred individuals are rarely self-sustained. They often rely on trade and usually have attractive assets. These large and wealthy packs are at much greater risk of aggression than small isolated packs like the Merrits.

“They need alpha Left Hands. Why? Because the dealings between werewolf packs are often volatile, but before nascent conflicts devolve into full pack-against-pack warfare, they can often be resolved by the pack’s Left Hands. Sometimes it is through diplomatic negotiation, but also, quite commonly, through physical challenge.

“So, amongst the Left hands of the most powerful packs, Peter, a beta, is… unique.”

Derek leaned his head back against the trunk. “My mother could have chosen any number of alphas to be trained as her left hand, but she wanted her little brother. She wanted Peter. It was a questionable choice. Peter’s SASSH was only thirteen. He was always going to Sort as a beta. 

“He Sorted two years into his training, a beta with a new SASSH of 16. Two years after that, he met Nina, his mate. After they consumed their mating bond, his SASSH increased to 18, an exceptionally high score for a beta. 

“Elise was my mom’s uncle’s Left Hand before he died, and she trained Peter. She said he was fearless, his love and loyalty to the Hale pack absolute, his dedication to get what was best for the Hales, the most advantageous for his Alpha, uncompromising. He never hesitated to go after what he wanted, even if it led to a physical conflict, and in a fight, he could hold his own against opponents that logically should win, and he always has.

“When I started training with him after being picked as the future Left Hand by the next Hale Alpha, I asked him how he does it. He said he goes into each fight knowing _for a fact_ his opponent is better, and that he is going to die. So, having nothing to lose, he doesn’t hold back, doesn’t try to spare himself. He goes for the most effective blow, regardless of the risks. Nine times out of ten, it works. The tenth, he is grateful the only 5 in his SASSH is his healing, because it allows him to try again, until he succeed.

“Every time he fights, he goes for the kill. He never shows merci and he always finish his opponent off in the most gruesome way possible, making sure to leave a lasting impression. I have witnessed him negotiate for our pack and for the township. No one ever tries to best him, or cheat the Hales or Beacon Hills off their due. There never is any posturing around him, or physical threat of any kind, because all the other Left Hand know _never_ to challenge him. It took him years to get there. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that though he watches out for our interests, he is always absolutely fair.

“All our pack members are trained for combat from childhood: Defending the township is our raison d’être, our primary responsibility. But Peter has sworn that as long as he is the Alpha’s Left Hand, we will never need to fight. My mother is our Alpha, but Peter is the face the Hale pack presents to the rest of wolfdom, and yes, it is _terrifying_.

“This morning, Peter just did what he does, not thinking what it would look like to you. I’m sure he feels awful now. You see, when you were a child, he was always your favorite, and he really loved you. He is one of the people in the pack who missed you the most through the years and he has been looking forward to getting to know you again, and for you to get to know his son Pip.

“He is a good man, a great wolf, one that has had to behave a certain way to effectively do a job he was not naturally equipped to handle. Perhaps you could try to give him a chance.”

It was Stiles turn to sigh. “I’m not sure if the things you tell me make me feel better or worse, to be honest.”

“I’m just giving you the information you need to understand the situations you mentioned. Believe me, you have not done anything to lose the good opinion of my Alpha or her Left Hand. “

“Well, actually…”

Derek rolled his eyes. “What.”

“I may have suggested that your parents were wererabbits, and not werewolves…” confessed Stiles.

Derek raised his eyebrows as if it made no sense to him whatsoever. 

“You _have_ heard the expression “fuck like rabbits” right?” asked Stiles, confused.

“Ah! Well, they obviously do, there are eight of us. An honest mistake, one anyone could make, really, but no. We are definitely wolves.“ Derek got up and held out his hand. 

“It was kind of rude of me,” insisted Stiles, accepting the hand up.

“Was it." A shrug. "I could see how one might wonder.”

“Oh, my god! You can't be serious!" Then, truth dawning, if a bit late. "Are you just messing with me?”

Derek gave him a flat look. After a moment, he said, “I might be.”

“Argh! You’re... You're..." He glared at Derek. "I'm in a fragile state, I'll let you know. You, sir, are playing a dangerous game!”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride home. You had a trying day. You can sleep on it and come back tomorrow. One day is not going to make that much difference.”

“Dude, I can’t just leave, I have to ask my dad and…”

“Werewolves, Stiles, not wererabbits. We’re less than a hundred feet from my mom’s opened office windows, as the crow flies.”

“They were listening to us the entire time?” asked Stiles, horribly self-conscious.

“They were worried about you. It’s fine, Stiles. Come on.”

They didn’t speak in the car. Derek’s silent presence was calming, somehow, and Stiles was surprised to wake up in front of his house.

“I’ll give you and your packmates a ride to school tomorrow, give Alpha Stilinski a break. Get some rest.”

Stiles nodded and undid his seat belt. As he opened the car door, Derek grabbed his wrist. “I’m serious, Stiles. You can rest. The Hales patrol the Stilinski borders all night and have, since you Sorted. You are safe in your home.”

Stiles wondered how Derek knew Stiles had worried about that. Making eye contact with the man, he nodded again, and said, “Thanks.”

Stiles got out and closed the car door, crossed the mountain ash line and walked to the front door. He turned around and waved to Derek before stepping in the house. It wasn’t until the door was closed and locked that he heard the Camaro drive off.


	15. My brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapters, Stiles was almost kidnapped on the way to school and his dad requested the help of the Hale pack. During his visit to the Hale Alpha, Stiles learned of his previous connection with the pack through the story of Rumi, who saved them all from the fire lit by Kate Argent. After his difficult day, and faced with how little control he has over his life, he lost it a bit and Derek helped him pick up the pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First: I rewrote a wee bit of the end dialogue between Stiles and Derek which didn't sound right to me. It changes nothing in the story, it just made me feel better.
> 
> Second: To clarify: At their Sorting, teenagers learn three things: Their status (alpha, beta or omega), their sexual inclination (straight, gay or bi) and whether they have a magically predestined mate. ( a perfect match, the one person who fits them completely, but if they die, oops, too bad, alone forever) or if, like we do, they will just have to run the gauntlet of love. 
> 
> Third: In this AU, people can have sex just as we do, but **can only conceive** during a female’s receptive heat and **never use birth control** , as **children are rare and precious**. During her heat, her libido is much higher than normal, and if she has a mate, he, too will go into heat, but heats are not extravagantly noticeable: people do not become crazed sex beasts. They are just really, really horny and heat sex is particularly good.
> 
> On _average_ a mated alpha female usually has a receptive heat once every three years, an unmated alpha female, once every six, a mated beta female, once every four, an unmated beta once every seven years. (Let’s remember, for comparison’s sake, that in our world, most women of child bearing age are fertile _twelve_ to _thirteen_ times _a year_ …) 
> 
> If an Alpha has a mate, her or her mate’s heat will drive all the females in the pack into heat as well, hence the benefit for a pack to be led by a mated Alpha. But even receptive heats do not guaranteed conception. 
> 
> Omegas, once they find their mates, are permanently in heat. Females in a pack with a mated omega, will have much more frequent receptive heats, mated females as many as once a year and unmated females every two to three years.

After he heard the Camaro drive off, Stiles stood inside the locked front door for a minute, thinking about his options. 

He could hear Scott and Allison in the dining room, where they probably had their homework spread out on the dining room table, but knew that joining them would lead to answering questions about his visit to the Hales, and he did not want to rehash his hissy fit once again. Physical and mental exhaustion made the prospect of their well-meaning concern overwhelming. 

Melissa was off from work that evening, and would be in the kitchen, preparing dinner. He dreaded sitting down with his pack after his embarrassing display in Alpha Hale’s office. Perhaps he could get a snack, and tell her he was not feeling well and going to bed early. Except that then, being Melissa, she would want to conduct a full physical on him, something he neither had the energy to deflect, nor to sit through.

Ugh. He headed up the stairs to his room, toed off his shoes, and crawled into bed, burying himself in the cocoon of his pillows and comforter, opting to relax in a momentary state of blissful denial. A few breaths later, he was deep asleep.

~o~

“Stiles. Wake up, son.” His dad was sitting on his bed, his big hand pushing Stiles sweaty hair off his face, and Stiles cuddled up to him from under his blankets, his father’s presence solid and reassuring.

His dad sighed. “I’m sorry to wake you, kiddo.” He added, his tone hopeful, “I brought you some food!”

Stiles took a deep breath, opened his eyes and stretched. It was dark outside, and he was fully dressed, and he could tell that if he thought about it, he would know why, but his instinct was telling him to let sleeping dogs lie.

“Hey, Dad. T’smells good,” he said, bringing himself up to a sitting position, leaning against his headboard. 

His dad transferred a full tray from the floor to Stiles’ lap. On the tray were a plate of stuffed peppers and mashed potatoes, a bowl of beet salad and water. Stiles had loved beets since he was little and had discovered that after eating a lot of them, your pee came out pink. 

“It’s good,” said his dad. “Eat up.”

Stiles started by drinking from the tall glass covered with condensation. It had been sweltering underneath the covers. He emptied half the glass, sighed and stopped pretending everything was fine.

Lowering his eyes, he said, “Alpha. My actions this afternoon were shameful. I apologize for embarrassing you and our pack in front of the Hale Alpha. My disrespectful behavior misrepresented your guidance and the wisdom with which you lead our pack. I’m sorry.”

John placed his hand on the back of Stiles neck. “I accept your apology.” Stiles took a relieved breath, and felt as if a weight had lifted off his shoulders.

John continued, “Although Alpha Hale and her Left Hand made allowances for you because of the unusual stress you have been under and chose not to take offense, you will apologize to them as well.”

“Yes, Alpha, I will.”

John smiled at him, and squeezed his shoulder. “Now eat, please, before it gets cold.” 

Stiles smiled back before eating a forkful of beets.

While he ate, his father spoke. “Before starting my conversation with Alpha Hale, I asked you if you were OK. It bothers me that you didn’t feel you could answer me honestly. It tells me that my past behavior has failed to show that both as your Alpha and your father, I put your well being ahead of everything else.”

“No, it hasn't! I know that, Dad,” protested Stiles, between bites.

“Then, why didn’t you tell me you were feeling overwhelmed?”

“I… I didn’t want to be more of a burden than I already am, I guess. I’ve made everyone’s life so difficult lately.”

John sighed. “Melissa’s right, as usual. I spoke to our pack tonight at dinner about what happened today, and she pointed out that by focusing solely on your protection, on the risks the situation exposes us to, we are forgetting, and worse, making _you_ forget that omegas are a blessing, that your sorting is nothing short of a miracle.”

Stiles’ expression must have reflected what he thought of that because his dad continued, with emphasis.

“Children are so precious, Stiles. We hear about packs grown too large for their territory because interpack conflicts and warfare are considered newsworthy, but no one ever talks about the small packs that dwindle to nothing and just disappear, about the stretches of empty lands that exist in the less favorable area, the countries that have become almost emptied, because their polygamous traditions have reduced the genetic diversity of the population to a point where miscarriages have become an even bigger issue that conception. The worldwide birthrate is barely enough to keep the population stable. 

“In your pack, the children will probably outnumber the adults, a wealth far beyond any material one. Your mate, most likely the Alpha of your pack, will be stronger because of you, better able to protect you and yours, and will love you as you deserve to be loved, wholly and unconditionally, as only a mate can.

“That would be enough reason to celebrate, but there might be more. If you have researched omegas, I’m sure you have read the legends.” 

Stiles huffed. “What? That children conceived in an omega’s pack all have mates and that the alliances formed when these children find _their_ mates usher an era of peace and prosperity for the entire area? That a male omega can bear children if his mate is an alpha male? That omegas and their mates can have children until their eight hundred and eighty eighth moon? Or that the fertility extends to the land, with bumper crops and plentiful game as long as the omega lives?”

“Legends often have their roots in the truth,” John pointed out.

“Then you better explain to me how I’m suppose to have babies.”

John chortled. “I’m not touching that one with a ten-foot pole,” he said.

“If it does involve a ten-foot “pole”, I’m staying single!”

His dad managed to look both pained and amused. He shook his head. “The point, Stiles, is that you are not a burden. You truly are a blessing. None of us resent, even in the smallest way, the changes we have made. We will continue to do whatever is necessary to protect you until you find your mate. When you’re ready, we can go back and speak with Talia Hale again. Whether or not we do what she proposes is entirely up to you. If it’s not what you want, we’ll figure out something else. OK?”

Stiles thought about it, while methodically eating his mashed potatoes. 

“Well,” he said, “I appreciate the fact that you all are thinking of ways to make me safe, but what I really need is to find my mate. _That_ must be the priority if I don’t want to live behind mountain ash barriers and surrounded by bodyguards forever.” He looked at his father. “I’d like to go to college, Dad, perhaps even go where Allison and Scott are going to go, maybe share a house with them and my mate if it’s possible, and just be like everyone else.”

John was quiet for a moment. “You are absolutely right. We have been concentrating on the wrong thing. We haven’t even considered how you could possibly meet your mate when we try and keep everyone away from you.” 

Stiles pushed his empty tray aside. “Well, _we_ have. I mean, my friends and I. Well, Lydia had an idea and we all worked with her, and uh, we came up with a questionnaire for unmated alphas to fill out, to eliminate the people statistically unsuitable and narrow down the pool of the remaining candidates to those I am actually compatible with. We just need to figure out how to get the questionnaire to the right people and then come up with a way for me to meet the most likely contenders.”

John shook his head, smiling. “You kids are amazing. You have good friends, Stiles. Did you get help from Mr. Deaton when you created the questionnaire?”

Stiles was a little embarrassed. None of them really liked Mr. Deaton. “Uh… no? We did borrow some of his books.”

“You should also give him a chance to look over your final result. Compatibility is important when you are looking for friends, but sometime, in mates, affinity takes precedence. And you know how they say that opposites attract?” Something in Stiles' expression must have shown what he thought of Deaton, because John chuckled and added, “He may be an annoying person to deal with, but he is a Mating Counselor, well respected in his field. He _might_ have helpful suggestions.”

They had looked at statistics about what mates had in common, what seemed important in successful relationships, but Deaton had made a career out of it. It would be stupid not to use his expertise, just because he was irritating. “Yeah, you’re right, we should,” Stiles admitted. “Lydia and I should speak to him before we go back to talk to Alpha Hale. She might take our idea more seriously if we have his seal of approval.”

“She would take your ideas under consideration whether or not Deaton approved of them, Stiles. She wants what’s best for you.”

Stiles felt an echo of the frustration he had endured that day, being present to hear the Alphas’ talk, hearing decisions being made about “ _What was best for him”_ and only being asked his opinion once the plan was already in place. He swallowed his annoyance, not wanting a repeat of that afternoon. He took a calming breath, and said, “Yeah. I know she does.”

His father looked sharply at him. “You don’t sound as if you mean it.”

“Dad…” Stiles could not believe how quickly his anger was flaring up, again directed at the wrong person. It was not Alpha Hale’s fault that he had so little control over his life, these days. For some incomprehensible reason, however, his frustration seemed to crystallize on her. He pushed aside his irrational feelings and said, honestly, “You’re wrong. I do believe Alpha Hale has my best interest at heart.”

His father rubbed his face with his hands, a gesture Stiles knew meant he was trying to keep his temper under control.

“Stiles. Son.” He took his hand away and made eye contact with Stiles. “Could you cut the crap, and just talk to me? There is no one here but us. Just. Just say what’s on your mind, OK?”

Stiles opened his mouth a couple of times without saying anything, until finally, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“I don’t know her, Dad! She’s acting like I’m so special, like she _knows_ me, but she doesn’t! So she was mom’s friend. Whatever! I’ve never met the woman! In another life, this little kid saved her family. It has nothing to do with me. Until today, she was this abstract, all-powerful werewolf, whose pack keeps us all safe. It’s awesome, and I respect that, but that doesn’t mean I necessarily trust her blindly to make decisions about my life! You’re my Alpha. Not her!”

“Stiles. I asked for her help,” John pointed out, reasonably.

“Yeah, well maybe you should have talked about it with me first, all right? And maybe I could have participated in your conversation!”

“What do you mean? Why do you think we included you in the meeting?”

“You did not! You made decisions, and then she asked me what I thought! That’s not the same as including me, Dad!”

“What…”

“She asked your permission for her Left Hand to be able to speak freely! It was an official Alpha’s meeting! I _couldn’t_ say anything!”

John closed his eyes. After a moment, he looked at Stiles, shaking his head. “I’m an idiot, son. And I owe you an apology. I did think it was strange you had so little to say. No wonder you lost it when Alpha Hale finally allowed you to speak. None of us thought to mention you were free to participate. I’m so sorry.”

Stiles righteous indignation just melted away. “Yeah, well…” He huffed. “Fine. Whatever. It sucked, Dad.”

“Is there something specific amongst what was discussed you want to talk about?”

There was, of course there was, but it had been a long day, and suddenly Stiles felt exhausted. He looked at his clock. It was close to midnight.

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?”

“Of course. You’re right, it’s late. We can talk when you get back from school. I have a morning shift, I’ll pick you up on the way home.”

“Uh… We have Lacrosse practice,” said Stiles apologetically.

“Then, I’m looking forward to seeing you play. Jordan mentioned you were really good.”

Stiles yawned and said, with a grin, “I have my moments between the times when I trip over my own feet.”

John chortled. “I bet.” He kissed Stiles forehead and picked up the empty food tray. “Goodnight, son.”

“’night, Dad.”

After John left the room, Stiles got up and made his way to his bathroom. He stripped off his wrinkled clothes and took a quick shower, getting rid of the sticky feeling that remained from sweating like crazy while sleeping fully dressed under his thick comforter. He brushed his teeth after drying himself and put on sleep pants and a t-shirt. 

He quietly opened his bedroom door and tiptoed to the hallway’s closet to get clean linens, and, after rolling up his moist sheets and throwing them in the corner, remade his bed. He opened his window and took a deep breath of the cool night air. Getting into a clean bed, feeling refreshed, was awesome. He fell asleep in seconds.

It was still nighttime when he woke up again, but the moon had risen and softly lit the room. It was cool now, a gentle breeze coming through the open window. He pulled the comforter up, to cover his naked shoulder, and snuggled down in the blankets, too comfortable to get up and close the window. 

He was about to close his eyes and go back to sleep when a huge black wolf jumped in through the opened pane on perfectly quiet paws. Before he had time to worry about what the sudden appearance of the wolf could mean, it transformed into Derek Hale, who was holding a finger across his lips indicating he should be quiet. 

As Derek walked toward his bed, the light of the moon illuminated the perfection of his naked body and Stiles could not help but look his fill.

“Stiles.”

Their eyes met, and Derek’s were full of intent. He pulled down Stiles covers. Even though Stiles clearly remembered putting on sleep clothes, he now was completely naked. He should have been embarrassed to be so exposed, but Derek was looking at him with such appreciation in his amazing eyes that Stiles just felt beautiful.

Derek’s hands were soft and warm as they caressed his body, and his hair felt wonderful under Stiles hands. As Derek settled between his opened knees, Stiles could feel their erections brushing against each other. It was heavenly.

“Stiles,” said Derek again, before their lips joined. They kissed, their tongues sliding sensually against each other as Derek pushed his hard, swollen cock inside Stiles welcoming body. Stiles moaned in pleasure as he came deliciously long, feeling Derek’s cock pulse inside him, Derek holding him tightly, lovingly, kissing him gently. 

“Stiles,” Derek said again, against his lips, and Stiles felt wonderful. He jumped a little when his alarm went off. His dream vanished, leaving him languid and dazed, his sleeping pants wet and sticking to his belly.

Stiles smiled. He _loved_ wet dreams. Derek Hale! He chuckled. Yeah. Derek was hot. At least as hot as Danny. In his last wet dream, a couple days before, Danny had sucked his cock in the locker room, and it had been great, but this dream was even better! He’d never dreamed of getting fucked before. 

He shivered slightly at the memory of the deliciously smooth glide of Derek’s cock inside of him. Just as he had wondered what it would really feel like to be in someone’s mouth, he wondered what it would really be like to have someone’s cock inside of him. He sort of hoped that if that ever happened, they would be smaller than he was. He had been awakened once or twice in the middle of a dream, before it reached its delicious conclusion, and before his erection had melted away, his cock had been… really big. That couldn’t feel too good going in, could it? 

He should have paid more attention in sex-ed. class. Or maybe not purposefully ask ridiculous questions to see how long it would take for Deaton to throw him out. In his oft and loudly expressed opinion, the classes had been unfairly weighed toward heterosexuality and reproduction, but he still quite clearly remembered stretching and lubrification being an important preliminary step to anal sex.

In his dream, there had been no such things, and still, Derek’s cock entering him had felt wonderful. He decided to do some research about gay sex on the Internet. If his mate turned out to be male, it would be good to know what to really expect. Wet dreams were not known to be very accurate…

~o~

It was not the Camaro that pulled up to the curb when it was time to leave for school but a black SUV and there was ample room for everyone. Cora was sitting in the front, so all three of them got in the back, Stiles sandwiched protectively between his packmates. 

“Thanks for the ride,” said Scott, running his hand on the rich leather of the seats. “This is a little nicer than the back of the cruiser!”

“I was wondering how we were all going to fit in your Camaro,” teased Stiles.

"I’d pay money to see that,” joked Cora. “I can hardly fit alone back there.”

In the rear view mirror, Stiles saw Derek roll his eyes. “The Camaro was fine yesterday. No one knew about your change of itinerary,” he said. “But this is your regular route and schedule. This is the Alpha’s car. It’s bullet-proof.”

“Cool!” said Scott, taping the thick glass of the window with his knuckle.

“Doesn’t that make it heavy and more difficult to handle?” asked Allison.

As they discussed the pros and cons of light-armor vehicles (something Allison seem to know an awful lot about), Stiles was watching Derek’s face in the rear view mirror as he checked for incoming traffic before pulling away from the curb and concentrating on the road. 

His eyebrows were thick, almost meeting over the thin bridge of his nose. His cheeks were broad. Not perfect, by any means. Perhaps it was the contrast between the pale skin, the dark hair and his lighter eyes that made him attractive. 

Stiles thought back to his dream and blushed, his eyes falling to Derek’s muscular arm as he changed gears. How accurate had dream-Derek’s body been? He looked back to the mirror, only to be met by Derek’s intense gaze. He turned his eyes away quickly, blushing again and feeling silly about it. After all, it was not his fault if his teenage libido had fixated on Derek. 

He had no control over his dreams. Allison had made an appearance in one of them a while back, and he’d just rolled with it. Anyone he found remotely attractive might show up as a sexual partner when his hormonal teenage body needed release. This latest one only lingered in his mind because Derek was _right there_ , all broad shouldered and manly and broody. He had loved the weight of that masculine body on his, the softness of the dark hair between his fingers, the way dream-Derek had looked at him. 

He glanced at the mirror only to meet Derek’s eyes again. This time, Derek was the one to look away. Was he flustered by their eye contact as well? Oh, duh! Reality check, Stiles: The man was _driving_! He was _obviously_ only checking the rear view mirror to see if anyone was following them. Stiles had to stop thinking about that dream! It was messing with his head.

Because he was lost in his thoughts, the trip to school seemed shorter than usual; there also had been none of the usual fuss from the press. The unfamiliar car, one with tinted window to boot, had apparently fooled them. 

“Thank you for the ride, Derek,” said Allison with a smile for the driver. Right! She had spent a whole weekend at Hale house not so long ago. She and Scott had secluded themselves for a week afterwards and with all that had gone on since then, it had never come up, but now Stiles was curious about what she thought of the Alpha, her family and the Hale pack in general. 

As the sheriff always did, Derek dropped them off at the curb right in front of the stairs to the main door. They got out and were about to make their way up when Stiles realized he had never told Derek that the sheriff would be giving them a ride home that night. 

“Wait up, guys!” he said. 

He walked back and opened the front passenger door, leaning over to look in with his hand on the roof and said to Derek, “Sorry, Dude, I forgot! My dad is picking us up? So, uh, you don’t have to.” Stiles let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Obviously! Well, if you were even going to, that is. I mean, you didn’t say, so…” Derek was looking at him, his eyebrows slightly raised. “Well, I guess you still have to pick up Cora anyway, right? Or someone needs to, eh! Yeah, whatever. Uh…” He _so_ needed to close the door and just leave, already. “Sorry. Yeah. Well. I’ll go now. See you. Thanks for the ride. And for last night, too. Oh, my god! I mean _for our talk_ last night of course, not, you know…” 

Stiles straightened back up as if he were spring-loaded, slammed the door shut, probably harder than he needed to and flailed back to where the other three were patiently waiting for him talking about their German homework. He gave them a slightly manic smile and herded them forward by wind milling his arms, saying, “Let’s go, people! Chop, chop!”

Cora rolled her eyes and Allison gave him a smile before they turned away and climbed the steps together. Scott put his arm around Stiles' shoulders and said fondly, “You’re so weird, Dude.”

Scott didn’t know the half of it. He’d not heard Stiles’ mortifying exchange with Derek. “I’m losing it, man. I’m even weirding myself out at this stage,” he confessed.

Scott gave him a sideway squeeze. As soon as they got through the door, he pulled Stiles aside, the students coming and going and the slight echo of all the conversations taking place around them in the entry hall giving them some amount of privacy. 

Looking at Stiles, he said earnestly, “John told us about yesterday at the Hales. Don’t feel bad, OK? Allison and I talked about it last night. We don’t know how you’re even doing it, man. I’d have lost it a long time ago.” He put his hand on the back of Stiles neck, the warmth of his affection reflected in his eyes. “No matter what, you have us, you know that, right? No matter what.”

The horrible chasm in his chest that Stiles had been carefully avoiding opened wide and he felt his eyes fill with tears and his chin tremble, just like when he was a little kid trying not to cry. 

Scott’s eyes flitted to all the people around them. Putting his arm around Stiles’ neck he said, “Come on Buddy, let’s go,” and walked him rapidly to the attendance office. 

“We’ll be in here for a minute,” he said to old Miss Wilkins, not giving her time to argue, entering the small, unused office where students sometimes sat when they waited to be picked up for a dental appointment or whatever, and closing the door behind them. Dropping their bags on the floor, he hugged his packmate tight as Stiles just broke down and cried on his shoulder.

“Stiles, Stiles, it’s OK, bro. You’re going to be OK,” he said worriedly. “John said Alpha Hale…”

Stiles’ heart wrenching cry cut him off. “ _You’re_ supposed to be my Alpha, Scott! My dad, then _you_ , with Allison. You’re my Alpha! And your babies! I’m supposed to be uncle Stiles, and we were gonna have this awesome pack together and love everybody and be home and now, I’m this dumb omega and it ruined everything! Everything!” He sobbed piteously.

“No, Stiles, c’mon, don’t say that!” said Scott, but his voice was broken too.

“I don’t want to leave you, leave my dad, leave our pack” said Stiles, breathless from crying, “and our house with my Mom’s quilt and her piano and her rose bushes, and the marks on the kitchen wall that shows how tall we are, and all the good hiding places and we were gonna get tattoos of our pack symbol when we go away to college and always run together on the full moon and now… I’ve lost everything! Everything!”

The door opened quietly and closed again, and Stiles recognized Allison’s lightly floral scent when she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his back. Scott sniffled and said, his voice full of tears, “You’re my brother, Stiles, you’re my pack, I don’t want to lose you either.”

“Tell him, Scott, just tell him now. You two are breaking my heart,” said Allison, sniffing.

“Tell me what?” asked Stiles, lifting his head from Scott’s shoulder.

Scott took a breath and broke the hug. “Got a tissue?” he asked Allison.

She dug a pack of Kleenex out of her purse and handed one to each boys. Girls were great like that. They wiped their faces and blew their noses, Scott sounding like an elephant in rut, as usual. Allison put her arms around both their waists and leaned her head on Stiles chest.

“Allison and I, we’ve talked about it, the week after she came home,” said Scott, his hand on Stiles’ shoulder, “and last night too, with my mom and the Alpha. I don’t care about being the Alpha of a pack, Stiles! And Allison doesn’t care about being an Alpha’s mate either. We just want to be together. When you find your mate, if they are the Alpha of a pack, we’ll ask to join their pack too, and so will John and my mom, when John retires. Or your mate can become the next Stilinski Alpha, if they want, or if your mate’s pack is in the Township, maybe the two packs can merge into one. But whatever happens, Stiles, you’re not losing us, because wherever you go, we’re coming with you, Bro.”

Scott squeezed his shoulder, and he had the smile on his face that he always got when he was truly happy. “We were hoping that’s what you’d want,” he admitted. 

Stiles turned to Allison and she nodded. “You can’t get rid of us that easily Stiles,” she said. “Besides, Scott and I want lots of babies!”

“Not eight, obviously, we’re not, what was it you called the Hales? Wererabbits?” Scott cracked up.

“We want four or five, maybe? So we _really_ need to be in a pack with an omega and his mate. Lucky for us, we happen to know one!”

Stiles grabbed them both and held them against him as tight as he could. The chasm in his chest he had never looked into before that day, too afraid of dying inside if he did, just closed completely, and there was hope. Now being an omega meant a mate for him to love, without the threat of losing everyone else he cared about.

“Youquishimaface! anacatbreav!” said Allison.

“And you’re strangling me, bro!” said Scott in a strangely high and breathy voice.

“Shut up! I’m having a moment!” Stiles said. They laughed as he let them go anyway, grinning like a fool. “Sorry, guys. I’m just so…”

They all three held hands, their eyes still too shiny and their noses a little red, their goofy smiles threatening to dissolve into giggles.

The bell rang. “Oh, shit, class!” said Stiles. 

Lucky for them, they were in just the right place to get their late slips, handed to them by old Miss Wilkins, who was smiling too, and dabbing at her eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but my senses are a five,” she admitted tremulously. “I might as well have been in that room with you all. You are a blessing to all of wolfdom Mr. Stilinski, and don’t you forget it, and it seems you have been blessed in return, with the best packmates.” She sniffed and dabbed her eyes again. “Now you kids run along unless you want to see an old lady weep!”

Cora Hale was waiting for them outside the attendance’s office, already holding a late slip. “What?” She asked Stiles. “The rule is never less than three escorts, Stilinski. Let’s go!” 

Of course, Harris only gave Stiles crap about being late. “We are already bending over backwards to accommodate your needs, Mr. Stilinski. One would think you would at least make an effort and get to class on time, but I suppose that as a _Blessing to all of Wolfdom_ , you are above common curtsey…”

A large grey wolf nosed through the unlashed door, and Cora, seeing it, lied with aplomb. “Actually, my mom asked us to wait for my uncle Peter to join us this morning and he was a delayed. Maybe you would like to take it up with her, you know, _Alpha Hale_ …”

Peter raised his hackles and let out a low growl, making Harris back away from Stiles’ desk rather precipitously before the wolf turned around three times and laid down, with his eyes closed, on the exact spot Harris had just vacated.

Cora continued as if nothing had happened, “… or take it up with him, sir, _her Left Hand_?”

“We have already wasted enough time with this. I suppose since we now don’t have enough time left for the experiment I had planned, you might as well put away your notes. Pop quiz, thanks to Mr. Stilinski.”

There was a general groan as he started writing equations for them to balance on the board, but soon the room fell silent except for the light screeching of pencils on paper. Stiles felt terrible. He usually worked a lot with Scott between chemistry tests, because for some reason Scott had a terrible time visualizing electron distribution and working out the possible bonds. He checked on him and was surprised to see he didn’t seem to have any trouble whatsoever. Scott even looked up and gave him a grin and a thumb up. Of course! Allison was really good in chem.! She must have worked with him.

“Eyes on your own paper, Stilinski. Try to copy off your neighbor again, and I’ll have to report you.”

Behind his stupid glasses, the hostile glitter in Harris’ eyes was warning him the chem. teacher was just waiting for an excuse to escalate the situation into something he could use against him, so Stiles held back his rebuttal, kept his mouth shut and went back to work.

“Perhaps you need to concentrate on your homework instead of calculating the net worth of every unmated alpha, who, unlike myself, is stupid enough not to understand your temporary attractiveness is due to nothing more but a fluke in your chemistry.”

Stiles clenched his teeth and blocked him out, concentrating on his work and, once he was finished, on a small but very detailed doodle of a huge black wolf carrying a flailing human with rectangular glasses into the woods by the ankle. It was surprisingly therapeutic. He was quite proud of the resulting image, and thought his wolf was particularly realistic. By the time the quiz were collected and the bell rang, he was feeling pretty peppy.

He packed his bag, and he and his next escorts, Boyd, Scott and Danny, waited until the class was empty to make their way out, so as not to be separated. At the door, he remembered the sleeping Peter. He turned around just in time to catch the grey wolf casually raising his leg and spraying a short jet of urine onto Harris’ shoes before heading for the door. Stiles jostled Scott out of the way so Harris would neither see him watching, nor laughing his ass off.

Peter did not accompany him to any other classes, leaving immediately at a jaunty trot, head and tail held high as if satisfied with a job well done. It wasn’t until lunch that Stiles realized he’d not been the only one seeing what had happened when Boyd, usually so reserved, had the whole table rolling with his description of Cora’s uncle pissing on Harris while Harris looked close to pissing himself.

After they calmed down, they switch to a more serious topic and Lydia let Danny explain his idea of putting the questionnaire on a specially designed webpage and creating a program with Stiles and Lydia’s help to more quickly and accurately assess the answers, which was brilliant. Allison volunteered to go ask Mr. Deaton after class to come by Stilinski House that evening to add his professional expertise to the unmated alpha questionnaire. 

Stiles shared with his friends Alpha Hale’s idea of insuring his safety through threat of retaliation, and he was surprised when it was Jackson who objected. 

“Yeah, and what? What are they going to do if a pack tries and manages to take Stiles anyway? Kill Stiles’ new mate and his new pack? Who would suffer then? It’s not like Stiles could just come back. He wouldn’t even be himself anymore. He’d probably die from the pain of losing his mate!” Jackson seemed to notice he had just express concern for someone other than himself and mumbled roughly, “That’s a pretty short sighted plan if you ask me!”

Lydia put her hand on his and said, “My mate has made a very good point!” Jackson smiled, because nothing made him happier than Lydia’s approval, but he hid it by kissing her temple, because it embarrassed him.

“Yeah, I hate to say it, but he did,” added Scott, ducking the chip Jackson threw at his head.

“You know,” said Allison, interrupting the small chips throwing war that followed between them by stealing Scott’s ammunition, “All of you have lived here, in the township, all of your lives.” She smacked Stiles hand as he tried to get Scott’s chips back for him. “You know the Hale pack is strong, you respect their Alpha, and are aware that they are responsible for the peaceful life we enjoy, but they are… familiar to you. You really have no idea, not a clue, about how the rest of the world views them.

“What do you mean?” asked Lydia, and the boys finally started paying attention. 

“Last summer there was a conference organized by the federacy about the renewal of the university townships special charters, and the protection of students in transit to and from schools. Attending these conferences is part of our accepted role as Hunters since we are considered neutral. The organizers count on us to keep everyone on their best behavior. I had just sorted, so it was the first event like that I had ever attended.”

From the look on his face, it was obvious this story was new to Scott too.

“There were a lot of influential werewolves there, and many packs represented, some small, some large. The first day, organizers were walking the reception room, assisted by Hunters, keeping packs in active conflicts from running into one another, diffusing tense situations, encouraging participant to relax, drink, chat and eat canapés. There was a lot of tension, currents of frictions between enemy packs, a _lot_ of Alpha posturing, voices and laughs just a little too loud. A real powder keg.”

“Sounds a little scary,” Scott said. 

“Yeah, well, let’s just say I was glad I had my crossbow loaded with wolfsbane infused arrows. Anyway. Then the Hale delegation arrived and there was this hush. 

”The click of claws on the floor was the only sound in the huge reception hall as they entered, Alpha Hale walking ahead of twenty large, beautiful wolves, all with bright red eyes, except for the one at her left side, a grey wolf with glowing blue eyes. The crowd parted like the sea, leaving a wide clear path for them. Their transformation back to human form was so fluid and graceful! People no one had noticed walking at their side covered each of them in loose draping robes and melted back into the crowd, and the Hales were just there, regal and elegant, in the center of it all. 

“Talia and her mate were charming, greeting people by name, acting as if they had not just made a spectacular entrance. The rest of her alphas pleasantly joined people near them in conversation, all benevolence and kindness. 

“And Peter and Derek Hale stood in the midst of it all, almost back to back, dressed in fitted black cloaks belted at the waist, Peter with a small smile, looking like he knew everything shameful anyone there had ever done, and Derek with a frown, looking like he was hoping someone, _anyone_ , would give him an excuse to rip their throat out with his teeth. They were like a scorpion in our midst, and you didn’t know which to fear most, the pincers or the tail.

“The Hunters might as well have left after that, for all the need there was for our presence. You could not have attended a more peaceful gathering, everyone filled with good will and diplomatic intentions. For the whole conference, Alpha Hale and the members of her pack were approachable, easy going, helpful and friendly. Peter and Derek walked around the different sessions, either separately or together, checking in with other Left Hands, Peter charming and sarcastic, Derek aloof and polite.”

“Trust me: If the Hales do announce they have put Stiles directly under their protection, I sincerely doubt there would be any pack willing to risk their wrath, but to answer Jackson’s point, I think it would mean that either Derek or Peter Hale would take over as his personal body guard, and believe me, Stiles would be perfectly safe.”

“Uh,” Scott commented intelligently.

Allison giggled and bit in her apple. Lydia looked pensive.

“How can Peter Hale be so bad ass? He’s only a beta, right?” asked Jackson.

“My dad said Peter Hale has never lost a fight,” said Allison, shrugging.

“How is that even possible? An Alpha should be able to overpower him,” said Jackson, logically.

“Derek said that’s why Peter wins,” Stiles explained. “While they try to overpower him, and he just goes for the kill. No one has ever walked away from a fight with him.”

“You mean… he has killed anyone who’s ever challenged him?” asked Danny, disbelieving.

“Yep.”

“Regardless of the reason?”

“Right.”

“That’s…” Danny looked at loss for words.

“Why he can get away with pissing on an alpha’s shoes? I guess it is!” Boyd finished for him, cracking up.

They all chuckled, but then Danny added, “I meant to say, that’s a tough way to live, you know? On the one hand, he would need a reputation like that, but on the other hand, it would be a heavy burden to carry. I bet he’ll be relieved when Derek takes over.”

“I guess being the Left Hand for the Hales is a little different than being the left hand for a pack like the Emmet pack,” remarked Scott to Stiles. “It would be a lot to ask of someone.”

Maybe that was why Derek Hale looked so grim. Yet, he had been helpful the night before. Not exactly warm and fuzzy, but concerned. 

Stiles had met Talia and Joshua Hale’s other children. Which of them would be the next Hale Alpha? Which one had asked Derek to shoulder the responsibility of being “the face the Hale pack presents to the rest of wolfdom”, in Derek’s own words? Michael? Laura? Samuel? Or was it one of their other relatives, yet more powerful than either of those three? 

Peter had lost his mate. Being his sister's Left Hand was his life. Derek was young, twenty three or twenty four maybe. Had Derek met his mate yet? And if he had, how did his mate feel about the sacrifices he would be called upon to make for his role? About how the weight of his duty might affect his personality?


	16. Getting there

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time, after everything that had happened to him, Stiles lost it at his meeting with Talia Hale. Still feeling a bit unstable, he finally admitted his fear of having to lose his pack once he found his mate, but Scott put his mind at rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not betaed, sorry.

Playing Lacrosse was always fun, but playing well, with his dad watching and cheering him from the stands was totally awesome. It also felt good, considering that every one of their interactions so far had been less than flattering to Stiles, to shine a bit in front of Derek Hale, who, as usual, was watching from the edge of the preserve.

It was definitely Derek and not Michael, because even from this far, Stiles could see the ever-present scowl. Michael would have probably smiled and waved… 

Finstock’s frustrated whistling signaled the end of practice, “Why do the gods hate me?!” he wailed, throwing his clipboard onto the bench dejectedly. Stiles had just popped a perfect pass right into Scott’s cross from way out in midfield, so Scott could just whip it around and score. “Couldn’t you have been “a blessing to our _team_ ”, Stilinski, and Sorted an alpha, like everyone else? Shut up, Greenberg! Betas who play Lacrosse are just alphas with blue eyes!”

“Well, maybe he could play in the games now, coach. With his omega scent, it’s not as if the players from the other team could body-check him by mistake,” Jackson pointed out.

Coach picked up his clipboard, a calculating light in his eyes, but then he shook his head. “Nah. They would say it’s an unfair advantage if one of ours couldn’t be slammed into the grass. Learn it sooner than later, boys, life is a harsh mistress. She giveth lemons, but if she taketh the lemonade!”

“The way Stiles smells, unmated alphas on the other team would probably pass him the ball!” Danny joked, as they walked toward the locker room. 

Coach Finstock, walking next to Stiles, took a deep breath and sighed appreciatively. “Leather, grass, a hint of rubber: The essence of Lacrosse. They should bottle this stuff.” 

As soon as he went into his office, they all burst out laughing. That _would_ be the coach favorite scent. 

Danny opened his locker. “Stiles? Lydia said to come to your house after practice?”

“Yeah. The sooner we’re ready with the webpage you guys talked about, the better.”

“I already wrote the code for the algorithm she created to sift through the answers, so as soon as we enter the questionnaire, we’re good to go.”

“Wow. Thanks. That’s… I’m sure it was a lot of work, Danny. I…”

“Stiles, shut up. I was glad to do it. I stayed up till four, but it was fun, man! Plus, I want to go to MIT, in Cambridge Township, and it will look great on my application.” Danny gave Stiles a friendly slap on the shoulder as he headed to the showers, his towel around his neck. Stiles was momentarily mesmerized by the sight of his amazing ass, walking away, then gave himself a mental slap and finished undressing. 

He hurried up and showered, and he, Scott and Boyd were the first to head for the door.

“Stilinski! Get your ass in here!” the coach yelled from his office. The other two looked at each other and decided to go with him, standing by the door unobtrusively. Coach Finstock was taking notes on a play sheet, and talked without even looking up. 

“Tomorrow’s the full moon and it rises early. I was wondering if you would give some thought to taking the rest of the week off from school. Hm. Please.”

Stiles was surprised, because Finstock, who _was_ an unmated alpha, had always acted completely unaffected around him. Then the coach threw down his pen, and looked up at him.

“I know it’s unfair to you, but they’re only teenagers for crap’s sake! I don’t want to have to slap that poor Tate girl again, to snap her out of biting off her claws, trying to keep it together when she has to sit in my classroom right after your leave it.” 

The coach swallowed hard, as if he had a bad tad taste in his mouth. “I had never hit a student before.” Eyebrows raised, he added pensively, “I’d love to punch Greenberg in the face, though… Hm. Well! don’t just stand there with your goons, Bilinski! Don’t you have somewhere to be? Get out of my face!”

The three boys were quiet on the way out. Allison joined them as they left the locker room, giving her mate a kiss. After explaining the Sheriff had gone ahead to bring the car around, she told Scott how good he had looked on the field. 

Stiles knew he was lucky to be allowed to attend classes. The next day was Thursday, he didn’t have tests in any of his classes, or on Friday either, and he could give Allison the paper they had to turn in in English lit. By Monday, with the moon waning, it would be easier for his schoolmates to be around him.

“I think I’ll ask my Dad if I can stay home tomorrow and Friday,” Stiles announced. “There’s control, and then there’s torture.”

“Because of the moon?” asked Allison and Scott related to her what the coach had said.

“That’s good,” said Boyd. “I’m pretty sure I won’t be here to help escort you on Friday, actually.” 

“You won’t?” Scott said, surprised.

Boyd’s already dark skin turn a shade darker as he blushed. “Tomorrow is the Flower moon,” he said.

Most people who had already Sorted and knew they had a mate, like Boyd, could tell who that mate was if they knew them, even before their mate Sorted. Yet, it was considered completely inappropriate to mention it. After all, there was the rare occasion when they guessed wrong.

“What does that…” started Scott, only to be interrupted by Allison elbowing him in the ribs and saying pointedly, “The flower moon is _Erica’s_ Sorting moon, Scott.”

“Oooh! Uh…”

“I can’t believe I’m going to miss Erica’s Sorting,” commented Stiles, saving his bro from himself by redirecting the conversation. “I was really looking forward to it. I wonder if her shift will change. If she gets more than just her pointy canines, I won’t be able to tease her about being a vampire anymore. Bummer.”

“What’s her SASSH?” asked Allison, who had not grown up with them.

“14, so probably a beta, but could still go the other way,” said Boyd.

“Maybe she’ll do me a favor, Sort an omega and take some pressure off me,” joked Stiles.

Scott and Allison laughed, but Boyd’s eyes flashed red at the thought, before he could catch himself. Only Stiles noticed and knocked shoulders with him, smirking.

“Shut up Stilinski,” Boyd muttered, nudging him back, smiling sheepishly. Even while put on the spot, Boyd remembered to check his strength, his shove no harder than Stiles had been. Boyd never forgot, which was a good thing, considering his Strength rating was a five.

Allison, Stiles and Scott climbed in the back of the cruiser. Vern Boyd was riding shotgun. He handed his son a lunch pail through the rolled down window, saying, “Your sis’s been baking. There are brownies in there with your dinner.”

“Cool.” Boyd bend down and added, ”Hi Sheriff!” then, straightening up, he passed his backpack to his dad. “Hey, since you’re here, take that with you, will you? I don’t need it at work. See you tomorrow, guys. Later, Dad.”

“See you later, son.” “Bye, Boyd!” “Don’t work to hard, man!”

Boyd headed to the bus stop to go to his job at the ice rink as John pulled away from the curb.

“Melissa called before heading out to work,” he said. “Alan Deaton is at the house with your friend Lydia. They came straight after school ended and have been hard at work ever since, she said. And also that Danny Mahealani is coming too?” 

“Yeah. He’s meeting us there,” Stiles answered. “Unless you want to cook for all of us, Dad, we should order out. I’m starving, and I don’t think we’ll be done till late.”

“Melissa was way ahead of you. She had some pizza delivered. We’ll just have to warm it up.”

“My mom’s so awesome,” said Scott.

“Like mother, like son,” Allison commented, smiling.

“Oh please!” groaned Stiles.

“Yes, Allison, cut it out. My teeth are aching,” Vern teased. She laughed.

“My mate’s so awesome,” added Scott, smiling at her.

“Ew! Guys! Stop with the googly eyes! No! NO!” cried Stiles batting their hands away. “No hand holding! I’m stuck in the middle here!” 

In the front, John and Vern were cracking up.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up you two. You want to trade places? Dad, put the pedal to the metal, will you? That’s what the siren’s for! I feel like I am being suffocated in a love sandwich back here.”

Scott and Allison both started tickling him and he squealed and laughed helplessly.

John rolled his eyes. “We’re here. Everybody out.”

Allison broke the ash line and she and Scott walked to the house while Vern came around to take the wheel.

“Pick you up at ten tomorrow?” he asked John.

“Yeah. I’ll call you if there is a change.”

After Stiles closed the mountain ash line behind them, he asked his dad, “Is Derek Hale giving us a ride again tomorrow, then?” Then he remembered. “Oh, actually, I was thinking it might be best if I stayed home tomorrow and Friday. What do you think?”

“I was actually going to suggest that, which is why Vern isn’t coming early. You’re OK with Scott driving the jeep?”

“Of course.”

They were about to go in the house when they heard a laugh behind them and turned. Danny must have pulled up just as Vern pulled away, and, distracted by his conversation with Stiles, John had not noticed. 

The ash barrier had bounced Danny back. “That is the weirdest feeling,” he said, still chortling. “Lydia is with me, usually, so I guess I forgot it was even there. A little help, Stiles?”

Stiles ran back and let him in. “It didn’t hurt, did it?”

“Nah. It glowed blue and just, boing! Bounced me. Like a vertical trampoline. Magic is so cool.”

Once inside, they found the others sitting around the dining room table. Danny took out his laptop and sat next to Lydia. Stiles sat between Scott and his dad, across from Alan Deaton. The only thing on the table was a neat stack of paper, two cups, and a teapot. It looked as if Lydia and the Mating Counselor had finished their work and had just been waiting for them. 

Alan Deaton gave Stiles his annoying zen smile. “I must congratulate you on your diligent work and on your choice of friends. I have reviewed the questionnaire you created together. It was impressively comprehensive. I only suggested but a few modifications and additions. I also think making it available online to unmated alphas is a very expedient way to proceed. Well done, omega Stilinski!”

“Thanks.” He narrowed his eyes and observed, “You only call me that because you know it annoys me, don’t you.”

“It is a proper mode of address,” replied Deaton, his smile slightly wider.

“Nicely redirected, but I noticed you’re not denying it,” pointed Stiles, and the Sheriff smiled, proud of his boy.

“You were a thorn in my side for two semesters, _omega Stilinski_ , I won’t deny _that_.”

“Oh, burn!” said Scott, grinning.

“I wonder what wine is best serve with cold crow,” Lydia wondered out loud, tapping her smiling lips with her manicured nail. 

“Nice one, Lydia,” remarked Danny.

“AAAAnyway,” said Stiles, not particularly interested in his father finding out about his classroom antics, “What changes did you make? Do I have to take the test again?”

It was Lydia who answered. “First: Formating. We have added the absolute requirements to the core of the questionnaire. If any of the requirements are not met, the candidate’s questionnaire will be red flagged automatically, but since no unmated alpha will be prevented from taking the test, these red flagged candidates will never know they were disqualified off hand and therefore will have no reason to attempt to “acquire” you illegally. 

“Second: Forty-two questions were removed, as Counselor Deaton thought they might well eliminate your mate. For example, someone who abhors people who speak in runaway sentences, or peppers their conversation with trivia, might find it fascinating in you, because you are also self-deprecating and funny and that’s what they want in a mate. 

“Third: Twenty one questions were added, that yes, you will have to answer, and two new requirements. The first requirement is masked in seven questions that will expose any negative feelings an alpha might have against pure humans, because you could never fall for someone like that, so why bother having them in the final pool? The second, that your mate’s pack be willing to take in four alphas along with you, because Counselor Deaton thinks you are a “Love me, love my pack” kind of guy. That’s it.”

Stiles turned to Deaton. “Love me, love my pack?”

Deaton shrugged. “One of my primary duty as a Mating Counselor is to help a new couples decide which of them will join the other’s pack. There are many issues to consider in making that decision, and most mates have some degree of flexibility. Still. There are some cases where there is only one possible outcome, and no choice whatsoever. 

“Had you been an ordinary mated alpha or beta, there would have been no question that your mate would to join your pack. Your love and loyalty to your Alpha and your future Alpha are as much a part of you as your back bone, so your perfect match, on the other hand, would naturally have been looking forward to leaving his or her pack. 

“As an omega, it is extremely likely your mate will be the Alpha or future Alpha of their pack, and unable to leave. In that case, I have no doubt your father, your brother, his mother and his mate will eventually all join you, hence the requirement.”

“How do you know that about me? About my pack?”

“Omega Stilinski, I did not get my Mating Counselor diploma as a prize in a cereal box. You were, for better or for worse, my student for a year, as was Mr. McCall: Plenty of time for me to learn this about you. Mr. McCall would no more leave you than you would him. His mate will _of course_ follow him, and you two are the apple of your respective parent’s eye. Quite obvious, really.”

He smiled his most benevolent _yet_ condescending smile to date, and sat back in his chair. 

Stiles huffed. “Since you understand people so well, you have to know how irritating your omniscient persona is.”

“How people react to frustration tells a lot about them. Annoying people is a tool, omega Stilinski. I also find it extremely entertaining…” He rubbed his hands together. “Well, I don’t believe I shall be needed for the rest of this process, so if there are no objections, I’ll take my leave.” He pushed his chair back and got up, both John and Stiles getting to their feet to accompany him out. 

Before stepping out of the mountain ash circle, Deaton added, “Miss Martin was thinking a press conference might be the way to announce the creation of your webpage. I imagine that you view speaking to the media as a disaster waiting to happen. As your Mating Counselor, I would have an excuse to represent you to the press. You’d have to be present, but I could answer most of their questions. If that would help you, I am at your disposal.”

“I guess you do know me pretty well,” said Stiles, chortling, then he added seriously. “I really appreciate that you would be willing to do that. I mean it. I’m not sure what we are going to do, but that would be great. I’ll let you know. Thank you for the loan of your books, for your help today, and for your offer. Really. Thanks.”

“My pleasure, omega Stilinski: You _are_ a blessing to all of wolfdom.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Oh, my god! Could you just… not?” 

Deaton chuckled. “Killjoy. Fine. Good night, Stiles. Good night, Sheriff.”

~o~ 

John warmed up the pizzas. As they ate, Stiles mentioned Alpha Hale had already suggested that Stiles should be officially introduced at the press conference where she would announce that he was under the Hales direct protection. Lydia was pleased, since it meshed with her idea of how to announce the creation of the questionnaire’s webpage.

Stiles was a little peeved, even though he shared their opinion, when they all immediately agreed that it would be a good idea to accept Deaton’s offer to act as a buffer when Stiles had to speak to journalists.

Allison, lovely person that she was, must have noticed. “If it were me in your situation, I would definitely need his help. I think I would be so flustered; I’d probably end up giving way more information than I should, go off tangent and forget the question altogether, or just freeze like a deer in headlights. I _hate_ public speaking!”

Stiles smiled at her.

Then, because she was as smart as she was kind, Allison suggested that for his original meeting with the press, Stiles should prepare a statement with whatever information he thought was fair to share, and just not answer any questions at all.

“I think people will want to hear your voice, have a chance to feel like they are interacting directly with you, like they are getting to know you personally, you know?” 

While Danny worked on coding the changes that had been made, the rest of them help Stiles decide what would be appropriate to put in his statement to the press. By the time Danny was done, Stiles had an outline he could work with.

Stiles’ answers had to be entered into the program along with each question. He loved and trusted his friends, but many of these answers revealed things about himself he would not be comfortable sharing even with Scott, so he ended up having to input the entire questionnaire himself.

Lydia and Danny went home to Whittmore house and the Sheriff went to bed, but Allison and Scott took turn dictating the questions to Stiles to speed things up. It was a good thing Stiles spend so much time on his laptop that the keyboard was like an extension of his fingers, because as fast a typist as he was, the whole thing took almost three hours.

Danny would return before school the next day to make sure the program had no glitches, and Stiles had to flesh out his statement to the press during the day, but other than that, he was ready. He would ask his dad to contact Alpha Hale in the morning to ask her for another meeting. This time, he would be prepared, he would have something to contribute, and he would have some control over how things proceeded from there.

He went to bed with a feeling of accomplishment and optimism, but cringing when he set his alarm for five o’clock in the morning. It meant only four hours of sleep, but to make it to school on time, Danny would have to leave at ten after seven, at the latest, and he had wanted an hour and a half to fully check the program.

The full moon was too early for Danny to do it after school and be able to concentrate, so there wasn’t much choice. At least, Stiles would be able to go back to bed. Poor Danny had to go to school.

It was early afternoon, so Stiles was alone at home when Derek Hale came to pick him up to go to the meeting his dad had arranged with Alpha Hale. Stiles grabbed his backpack, locked the door behind him and hurried to the Camaro.

“Hey Stiles.”

“Hey. Thanks for picking me up.”

“Peter was going to, but I won the coin toss,” said Derek.

“Pfft! You actually wanted to taxi me around?”

“No.” Derek looked at him. “I wanted to have some time alone with you to ask you what it was you had started to say on Wednesday, before you ran off like your ass was on fire.” 

His eyes went back to the road. “You said, and I quote, “Thanks for last night. I mean _for our talk_ last night of course, not, you know…” He looked back at Stiles again. _“Not, you know…_ what Stiles? I have been trying to figure it out ever since: We didn’t do anything that night that would deserve a thanks, and leave you so flustered.” 

His eyes flicked back to the road, and back to Stiles again, this time with a smile. “Then I thought of something and now I wonder… Did you dream about me, that night, Stiles?”

Stiles felt himself blush bright red as he looked down at his hand.

“You did, didn’t you…” Derek pulled to the side of the road. They were already deep in the woods. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, Stiles. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I like that you dreamed about me… “

He reached and cupped Stiles face with his hand, gently turning it so they were looking at each other again. “What did you dream Stiles? Did you dream I was touching you?” 

Stiles nodded. 

“Would you like me to touch you?”

Stiles nodded again, too embarrassed to talk, and Derek ran a warm hand up his thigh, until it rested on Stiles growing cock.

“Should I touch you with my hand?” In seconds, Stiles pants were open and Derek was expertly milking his erection.

“Please…” moaned Stiles.

“Or?”

To his delighted surprise, next thing Stiles knew, he was in Derek’s mouth. His cock was surrounded by delicious wet heat, Derek’s tongue doing amazing things to the head of his cock, the warmth and the suction driving him wild, and Derek looked up at him, his eyes gorgeous and filled with want. Stiles bucked up into his mouth and came and came, his flailing hand inadvertently honking the car’s horn. 

He shivered with bliss as the horn kept sounding until he turned on his side and reached over to shut off his alarm, his heart still beating hard from his orgasm. 

Holly crispy crap! That dream had felt so real! Stiles needed a second to adjust before he was able to sit up. He puzzled at the twisted creativity of his brain, wondering if he should be pleased or worried about it.

That was two pairs of sleep pants he’d have to bury in the laundry pile. He dragged himself to the shower. It was still so dark outside, it felt like the middle of the night.


	17. All set

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, they worked with Deaton to finish the questionnaire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know ANYTHING about programing, so if you do, and something I wrote is just ridiculous, let me know please?  
> Also, my beta still has pneumonia, so...

17

Half an hour later, He was standing by the leaving room window, waiting for Danny’s car to pull up. When it did, he stepped into the grey dawn and went to go break the ash line for him.

“Wait up!” said Danny. He listened intently and wolfed out. “Go back in, there’s…”

A large brown wolf trotted out of the bushes by the drive and sat down, making it’s presence known.

“That’s ok, Danny,” said Stiles, relieved. “You can relax. It’s one of the Hales. Uh, Joshua? Or Michael?”

The wolf yipped softly at the second name.

“How can we be sure?” asked Danny, eyeing the wolf uncertainly.

The wolf approached slowly, its posture non-threatening, until Danny smiled, “Yeah, OK. You smell like Cora. Thanks. I’m sorry I’m being paranoid, but Stiles is not getting attacked on my watch again.”

The wolf woofed approvingly and retreated back into the shrubbery.

Stiles smiled at Danny. “Thanks, Danny. And thanks for getting up at the asscrack of dawn to do this.”

“It’s a nice piece of programming. Considering what it’s for, it’s sure to get me noticed, so I really want it to be flawless. Don’t get me wrong, I’m really hoping it helps you find your mate, but at the same time, it gives my work way more exposure than any senior project would, no matter how complex.”

“Hey! That’s cool. I’m glad you can get something out of it!”

Stiles left Danny at the dining room table and went to fix him waffles for breakfast and brought them to him as he did whatever he felt he needed to do to check the program. Eventually, Scott, Allison and his dad came down too, and Stiles made waffles for them too. He added yet another plate when Melissa came home from work, in time for the whole family to sit together for a few minutes. At seven o’clock, Scott got the jeep keys from Stiles and they got ready to leave for school.

“I better go and remind Danny it’s almost time to go,” said Stiles.

“I’ll come with you,” said John, getting up. “I want to thank him before he goes. Sounds like he put in a lot of hours into this. ”

Danny looked torn. “I think it’s ready, but I can only test it from within.” He sighed. “I wish I could do a true dry run, but there are security steps to qualify to fill out the questionnaire as a candidate. One of them is that the program verifies you’re an unmated alpha through your social security number, so I can’t even get in.”

“Well, I’m an unmated alpha. Would I qualify?” asked John.

“Yes, you would! Oh, that’s great!” He passed his laptop to John. ”This is the home page. Go ahead click “Questionnaire” and go through all the security steps, and then I’ll take the test, see if it works as it should.”

“Dude, if you don’t leave in the next five minutes, you’re going to be late for class,” Stiles pointed out.

“I’ll call my Alpha. He’ll call the school and claim one of his discretionary half day free passes for me.”

“Dude, we only get three free passes for the entire four years. You can just blow one of them on helping me out!” 

Danny took his phone out of his bag. “Stiles, if I don’t do this now, with the early moon and Lacrosse tomorrow, you won’t be able to talk to Alpha Hale until Saturday afternoon at the earliest. If I do it now, you can meet with her today. It’s totally worth it, OK?”

John said, “If we have to delay the press conference by a couple of days, so be it. You have already done a lot, Danny. You should get to school.”

“With all due respect, Alpha Stilinski, the decision rests with my Alpha.”

He dialed, and as soon as it was picked up. He put his phone on speaker, so Stiles, not benefiting from werewolves sharp senses, wouldn’t be the only one not hearing both sides of the conversation. His casual thoughtfulness reminded Stiles of why everyone liked Danny.

“Hey, David.”

“Danny! Any problems with your program?”

Stiles was impressed that Alpha Whittmore, whose pack was quite large and who was also the CEO of the Whittmore corporation, would be so in touch with what one of the high school students in his pack was up to.

“Not that I’ve found so far, but to be sure I need a few more hours, and if I don’t do it now, it will delay everything by a couple of days.”

“Any reason you can’t miss classes this morning?” asked the Alpha.

“No tests, and I share all of my classes with either Jackson or Lydia.”

“I’ll claim one of my Alpha’s prerogative half day passes for you then, shall I?”

Well, there went Stiles and his dad’s objections. To tell the truth, Stiles was really glad. He wanted to get the ball rolling on the questionnaire, and the sooner he was under Hale protection, the safer he and his family would be. Never mind getting rid of the damn reporters and stopping the daily influx of mail.

“Thank, David.”

“You’re welcome. I am proud of the way you, Jackson and Lydia have come to your friend’s help. The three of you bring honor to our pack.”

“Thank you, Alpha,” Danny hung up, glowing at his Alpha’s recognition.

“Your Alpha is right Danny,” said John, turning his laptop back to him, finished with the security protocol. “Thank you for being such a good friend to my son.”

“You’re welcome Sheriff.” He turned to Stiles and grinned. “Well, let’s see how compatible we are, shall we?”

“Do you need anything before you start? This is going to take you a couple of hours, at least. I’m going to go take a nap,” said Stiles. 

“Go on up,” said John. “I’m here until ten. I’ll take care of Danny.”

“Thanks, dad. Danny? Come wake me up when you’re done, OK?”

“Of course. Sweet dreams, Stiles.”

Sweet dreams. He had been having some pretty sweet dreams of late. Stiles left the room quickly, hoping no one had noticed him blushing.

~o~

“Stiles! Wake up, son!”

Stiles yawned widely. “Oh, hey, Dad! You’re leaving?”

“In a couple of minutes, and your friend is done. I called Alpha Hale, someone will come and get you at twelve thirty to meet with her. If you are not comfortable meeting with her alone, you can wake up Melissa. She said she’d be happy to go with you. We’ll all be going there later anyway. We are staying at the Hales, tonight.”

“We are? Why?”

John sat on Stiles bed. “Son, even if Scott, Allison and I didn’t run but stayed home this evening, it would be dangerous. Any human can break that mountain ash barrier, and the lock on our front door would not stop a determined alpha. The night you sorted, there was only one short trail of your pheromones for unmated alphas to follow, but after a month? Even though you may feel you’ve hardly stepped foot out of doors, I doubt there is even _one_ of the many unmated alphas in the township who has not been exposed to your pheromones. Not all werewolves have as good control as Alpha Reyes, and a lot of them might come for you, either intentionally or not. 

“No wolf in their right mind would enter the Hale’s territory without permission, and the entire Hale pack will stand between you and those _not_ in their right mind. Melissa, Allison and Scott would fight until the end to protect you, as would I, but I know you would never forgive yourself should one of us get hurt. Not only will _you_ be safe at the Hales, but Melissa, Allison and Scott will be safe there too.” 

Stiles looked at his father’s careworn, expressive face, at the laugh lines around his pale blue eyes, and at the vertical ones between his eyebrows. He was such a good Alpha. The best Alpha! Here he was, swallowing his pride, asking another to protect his pack, willing to endure the physical discomfort and the unavoidable feeling of shame that would come from spending the full moon in another pack’s territory to insure their well being. 

“I love you, Dad.”

His father ruffled his hair, smiling. “I love you too, kiddo. But now, I gotta go. See you tonight Stiles.”

“Yup.”

Stiles took the time to brush his teeth and splash water on his face before going downstairs. Danny was no longer in the dining room. Stiles found him in the living room, sitting on the couch, his head resting on the back of it and his eyes closed. He started tiptoeing out of the room but Danny looked up at him, laughing. “I’m not asleep. I was just resting my eyes. Besides, had I been asleep, the herd of elephants that just came down the stairs would have woken me up.”

“Are you insinuating that I lack stealth? Because I will let you know that stealthy is my middle name. Stiles Stealthy Stinlinski, at your service. Hey, that’s kind of catchy. Stiles Stealthy Stilinsky. Man. Try saying that five times really fast!” 

Danny just smiled. Stiles threw himself on the couch next to him, with his usual grace. “So, Dude! You’re done?”

“Yes. No glitches. It’s good to go. Just say the word, and it will be online.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you. You’re heading out to school?”

“Hell no! I don’t have to be there until one! Call of Duty?”

“You just did me a huge favor. I’d hate to humiliate you.”

“Oh yeah, “Stealthy”? Prepare to weep!”

Regretfully, because Danny was a serious challenger, they only played for about an hour, but they both needed to eat lunch and Stiles had to pack an overnight bag. Stiles made two boxes of Mac and Cheese they ate right out of the pan, and he grabbed a pack of white chocolate and macadamia nuts cookies to eat for dessert as he packed.

Danny lay on his bed, one hand behind his head and a cookie in the other, and commented on the clothes Stiles was getting ready to put in his bag.

“Don’t you own a pair of jeans that’s less baggy? These are dad’s jeans! You had a black pair last fall that you wore like, once. Those were nice.”

Stiles dug into his drawer trying to find them. “You noticed what I wore _last fall_?”

Danny grinned at him. “Yeah. I’m gay, Stiles. You looked really good in those.”

Stiles felt himself blush. 

“Stiles, don’t be embarrassed. There’s nothing wrong with being attractive. You should pack that baseball shirt you have, too. It emphasizes your shoulders.”

“I’m just going to hang at the Hales! I’m not going to a club or anything!”

“Uh, Stiles. Press conference, remember?”

“Oh, shit! Should I pack a shirt and tie? I don’t think I have any that fit! I sure don’t have dress pants! Oh, fuck, oh, fuck! I should have bought something!”

“Stiles! That’s what the black jeans and the baseball shirt are for. You want to look good, but you want to be yourself, too. You don’t wear ties, for fuck’s sakes. The last thing you want is to be uncomfortable in your clothes, and pretend you’re someone you’re not. You’re looking for a mate, not a job.”

“Uh. Good point. Thanks, Danny.”

He packed some sleepwear, his toiletries, and yet another set of clothes for the next day. It would be weird to be at another pack’s house, in a strange bed. Except for last summer, he had always slept in his own room. He decided to take his pillow as well. 

With half an hour to go, while Danny worked on his English paper, he sat down at his computer and organized what he was going to say to the press later. He was sure it wouldn’t be perfect, but oh, well. Just like his clothes, his speech should show who he was. If an unmated alpha disapproved of who he was, they certainly could not be his mate, could they?

At twelve thirty exactly, Alpha Hale’s SUV parked in front of the house. Stiles picked up his overnight bag and his backpack, and Danny put away his computer. Stiles locked the door behind them and freed Danny from the mountain ash.

His friend surprised him with a quick hug. “See you on Monday, Stiles.”

“Thanks, Danny. For everything.”

Danny waited until Stiles had put his bag on the back seat of the SUV and closed the front passenger door after getting in the car before he walked away. With one last wave, he got in his own car and drove off.

“That was Daniel Mahealani,” said Derek, frowning. 

Stiles mumbled while putting on his seat belt, “Hi, Stiles, how are you? I’m good, Derek! Thanks for asking. You? Just peachy, thanks! Was that your friend Danny? Well yes, it sure was!”

“Good to see he learned from his mistake,” added Derek.

“Hey! That thing with Matt was not Danny’s fault. We’d all let our guard down. He could have been hurt.”

“He was there to protect you. He failed.”

“What? Are you serious? He is a high school student, Derek, not a trained bodyguard. He was supposed to escort me, not fight off psychopaths! Danny is a really good friend, who just worked his ass off this week for me, and has been really cool, OK?”

Derek took his eyes off the road, looked at Stiles and scented the air, not even trying to hide it. He looked back at the road and didn’t say another word all the way to Hale House. 

“Rude!” said Stiles. He had no idea what his scent had given away, if anything. He was starting to think that Derek did not care about him one way or another, but that dealing with Stiles was basically one of the many jobs Alpha Hale might assign to him. It was so ridiculously different from Stiles’ dreams, he had to hold back a chuckle.

When they got to Hale house, Derek gave him his backpack but carried his overnight bag. It irked Stiles that Derek would assume Stiles needed help, but what the heck, it was kind of heavy, and Stiles had always wondered what it would be like to have servants. He smirked to himself.

While walking through the huge house, they crossed paths with a couple of people and they greeted Stiles with a smile. He smiled back, even though he felt like an imposter, because he didn’t identify with the little boy who had saved them.

In the corridor leading to the Alpha’s office, they met Laura, who had her arm around a teenage boy’s shoulders.

“Hey, Stiles,” she said. “This is Liam. He’s just arrived to the township. He’ll probably be in School with you on Monday. Liam, this is Stiles.”

Liam was not very tall, but he was handsome, with blue eyes and nice regular features. He looked really unhappy at the moment, though.

“Hey,” said Stiles. “What grade are you going to be in?”

“Sophomore.”

“I don’t know many sophomores, but until you meet people, you can hang out with my friends and I at lunch time if you want. Do you play Lacrosse?”

Liam’s features lit up. “There’s Lacrosse at your school?”

“Yeah. The whole Township is Lacrosse crazy, to be honest. Did you play at your old school?”

“Yeah, but it was just a pack school, so it was with only my brothers and my cousins.”

“Well, it’s too late to make the team, obviously, but you can come to practice and warm the bench during games. Hey, I got to go, but see you Monday, all right?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Liam certainly looked less forlorn, and Laura gave a mute “Thank you” to Stiles as they walked away.

Derek had been patiently waiting, and Stiles caught him watching him intently, an unreadable expression on his face. Without a word, Derek turned away, walked to the end of the corridor and knocked on the door of his mother’s office. When the Alpha answered, he opened it and waved Stiles in. When the door closed behind him, Stiles realized Derek had not followed. He was alone with Talia and Peter Hale.

“… perhaps the Reyes pack? They are small, so he wouldn’t be overwhelmed, and Thierry is very patient and nurturing. But we can speak of this later.” Talia turned to Stiles. “Come in, Stiles,” she says warmly, getting up from the same loveseat she had occupied the last time he was there. “Sit, sit!”

Instead, Stiles, remembering his promise to his Alpha, approached her, head bowed. “My behavior towards you the last time we met was disrespectful to you personally, to you as an Alpha and therefore to the Hale pack itself. It brought undeserved shame to my Alpha and to my pack. Please, accept my apology.”

Talia lightly touched his neck. “It is forgiven and forgotten, Stiles.”

Stiles turned to Peter Hale, next. 

“You have watched over me and protected me at the risk of your own life. I am ashamed that I was so ungrateful to you and disrespectful of you and of your position as Alpha Hale’s Left Hand last time we met. I am sorry.”

Peter placed his hand on the back of Stiles neck and said, “Apology accepted Stiles.” He moved his hand and squeezed Stiles shoulder. “The way I dealt with that Beta was unnecessarily gruesome. I was a complete ass to expose you to that… You and I were friends, once. I hope you will eventually be able to overlook what happened that day, so that maybe we can be friends again.”

Relieved that his apologies had been accepted, Stiles smiled at him. After Derek’s explanation and talking about Peter with his friends, he saw the man in a completely different light. “That won’t be a problem on my end, but I’m sure I was a lot more lovable when I was a cute toddler. Now, a lot of people would tell you that I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”

Peter smiled back, looking genuinely pleased. “I have seen how loyal your friends are to you. I don’t doubt you are worth the trouble. Now sit, and let’s talk.”

Stiles sat in the chair he had occupied when the Alpha had introduced her family. He took a deep breath. This was a fresh start, and he was in a much better place than he had been on his previous visit. He was kind of excited about sharing his and his friends’ ideas, actually.

“So,” said Talia. “You’ve had a chance to think about what we proposed last time. What are your thoughts?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you weren't sure, I do enjoy reading comments. A lot.


	18. Meet the press

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previous chapters: Stiles and his friends have worked hard setting up an onlive questionnaire to help him find his mate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta read this over, but she's sick and on drugs, sooo... :)
> 
> Also, in this AU: 
> 
> Non-mated people marry, a person is widowed when he or she loses his or her spouse. (John and Claudia)
> 
> Mated people bond, person is cleaved when he or she loses his or her mate. (Peter and Nina)

18

All the reporters and journalists who had been annoying the residents of the township for almost a month now were registered and had special passes to be allowed inside Beacon Township, so it was easy to contact them and get them to assemble in the reception room of the Alpha Council House with only an hour’s notice. It was the perfect location for a press conference, used regularly by the community for dances, spelling bees, amateur theater, concerts and recitals of all sorts.

With the full moon so close and the members of the press feeling the stress of having to spend it locked in their hotel rooms, away from their respective packs, tempers ran high. There were a dozen Sheriff’s deputies at key locations around the room and in case their presence was not enough to maintain order, eight members of the Hale pack, in wolf form, were up on the stage, watching the crowd attentively.

The Stilinski pack and Mr. Deaton were in the office that Talia, as the head of the Alpha Council, was provided with inside the Council House. They were watching what was going on in the reception room on the closed-circuit television.

As soon as all the members of the press were seated, Alpha Hale, accompanied by her second and her Left Hand, entered the stage and walked to the podium placed at its center. By the time she faced the crowd, one could have heard a pin drop.

She did not use a microphone; the Alpha power she put behind her pleasant musical voice insured all present would hear and _listen_.

“Hello, everyone. I am Talia Hale. Thank you for coming on such short notice.” Her tone was friendly and warm, her smile charming, as if she was completely unaware that even the most powerful of the alphas in the room instinctively recognized her dominance.

She went on, her voice calm and melodious, “The mandate of the Hale pack is the protection of the Beacon Hills Township. As per our federally approved charter, a threat to our protectorate is always met with immediate retaliation, its form and severity left to the judgment and discretion of the Hale Alpha. Issuing an appropriate response is, as the Hale Alpha, my responsibility, my right and my duty. 

“The township’s Alpha Council has extended our mandate to include the personal protection of one of its private citizen, omega Stiles Stilinski, with all that it implies.“

The changes in her posture were subtle although the red glow of her eyes was less so, when she continued, “As the Hale Alpha, I issue this warning: The Hale pack will respond to any attempt on omega Stilinski’s person by the immediate execution of the perpetrators, followed by the annihilation of their pack.”

It was obvious from the serious expressions on her listeners’ faces that none doubted of the Hale pack’s ability to follow through on that threat. 

Alpha Hale added, “In the extremely unlikely situation where an unmated alpha should still succeed in force-mating omega Stilinski, the Hale pack will use every ounce of its influence to insure the offender’s pack’s territory shall be permanently cut off from the outside world, that neither goods, services, information nor people will be allowed in or out of its borders and that the pack will be everlastingly ostracized by the all of wolfdom.

“Because omega Stilinski would be loved absolutely and above all things by his new mate, he would suffer least of all from such isolation. He actally suggested this penalty himself, to insure that the negative consequences of taking him by force would far outweigh the benefice of having him as a packmate.”

Talia smiled, and with a wave of her hand, dismissed the entire notion that Stiles might even need protection, her tone light and friendly once more. “It had to be said, but, thankfully, we live in enlightened times. Omega Stilinski is a blessing to all of wolfdom, and I am sure all the romantics among us are looking forward to following his quest for true love to its happy conclusion.” She added in a stage whisper. “I know I am.” She grinned.

Several people in the audience chuckled.

“Now,” she said, “I know that because of the security measures taken to protect him, it has been difficult for all of you to do the job you were send here to do. Being the intelligent young man that he is, he understands that people are naturally curious about him. So in a few minutes, he will come out to give a statement.”

There was a bit of an uproar at the news. Talia laughed good humouredly, and gestured with her hands to restore order. Still grinning, she said, “Let’s quiet down, please!” as if she was not backing that suggestion with her Alpha mojo.

“Thank you,” she said, still smiling, in the absolute quiet that followed. “Now, I am sure some of you are unmated alphas. I do not underestimate your control, but the full moon is very near, and pheromone chemistry is powerful, isn’t it. So if you would be so good as to move to the back of the room, next to the opened windows? If the rest of you could move forward to make room? Yes, there, great, thank you. 

“There is a sheet with some basic information about the omega being distributed, his exact date of birth, his pack’s affiliation and so on. Make sure you get your copy. Please do not interrupt omega Stilinski’s statement. His Mating Counselor will remain after he is finished to answer any questions you may have. “

Well, that was Stiles cue. Scott nudged his shoulder. “You’re going to do great,” he said.

Allison smiled and joked, “Don’t forget to breathe, OK?”

Melissa gave him a quick hug. “You look great. Don’t speak too fast, make eye contact, and stick to your notes.”

“Thanks guys.”

When Deaton opened the stage’s entrance for him, he didn’t even remember how he had gotten there from the office. Only the hand of his Alpha on the back of his neck kept him for turning tail and getting out of there. Michael Hale pinned a microphone to his shirt, smiled at him and gave him a thumbs up.

“Omega Stilinski, if you please?” said Talia, from the podium.

She was smiling at him, and his Dad gave him a not so gentle shove onward.

As soon as he appeared on the stage, the people in the room stood up and started clapping. Stiles walked to the podium and looked at all the people in front of him, who were behaving as he’d won the Nobel Prize. The clapping became even more thunderous.

“Uh, excuse me?” he said. “Hello? Could you guys please stop clapping?” Even with the microphone, he could hardly be heard.

He turned to Talia Hale, who was now sitting down at the back of the stage with her brother and husband, but she was biting her lips, trying not to laugh. Fine, then.

“Enough with the applause! Sit down, please!” he shouted. As his audience finally took heed, he mumbled, “Why in the world would they clap? I _Sorted_ an omega, I had nothing to do with it!”

He remembered a little late he was wearing a microphone, but just shrugged it off. Oh, well. At least, he was a lot less nervous now. He took the print out of his notes out of his pocket.

“All right. OK… Here we go.” He thought of Allison and took a deep breath. 

“Contrary to popular belief, my first name is not “omega”. It’s Stiles. Actually, that’s my nickname, but I would really like it if that’s what you called me from now on. So, hello everybody, I’m Stiles Stilinski. That man in the uniform, there, is Sheriff Stilinski. He is my dad and the Alpha of the Stilinski pack.” 

Stiles cracked up. “And yes, _his_ first name actually is “Sheriff”. Just kidding.” He chastised himself, forgetting the mike again. “Oops, stick to the notes, Stiles.”

There were quite a few chuckles in the crowd, and people were smiling.

“This other gentleman, here, is Counselor Deaton, my Mating Counselor. He will be answering any questions you may have after I’m done here.”

Stiles took another breath, remembered Melissa’s advice and made eye contact with a few people in the crowd. 

“Last moon, when I left the house to run with my pack, I was pretty relaxed. It was my Sorting moon, but I’m all-human. I already figured I was bisexual, and knew that regardless of whether I was an alpha or a beta, my alpha packmate Scott, who is like a brother to me, would be the next Stilinski Alpha after my dad. Maybe I’d have a mate, but most likely not. There really was nothing to be nervous about.

“Then, my world got turned upside down. As soon as I Sorted, one of my friends had to be dragged away. There were feral alphas circling our group and it was terrifying. We had to call the Hale pack for help to get home safely. 

“This past month, people have been sniffing me, as if “Eau de Stiles” was the best fragrance ever, and not the same mix of teenage boy, ivory soap and Doritoes it’s always been. One of my schoolmates tried to rape me. The Alpha of a respected pack tried to kidnap me. Some Alpha I’ve never met tried to give me a sports car, and I have gotten more mail and packages than all the rest of the Township put together. And of course, you people have been driving everyone nuts.

“I understand why omegas are a blessing to all of wolfdom, as a concept, but I’m just me, Stiles. My room is a mess, I call people “Dude”, I trip over my own feet, and I talk with my mouth full. A friend of mine picked my clothes today so I’d look nice, because I don’t care what I wear. I’m nothing special.

“I do feel blessed, though, because I have a mate. My packmate Scott is mated, and when I think that I too will have what he has, someone to love and who loves me like that… Yeah. Also I am blessed to have the amazing group of friends I have. They have been wonderful, putting up with all the nonsense that has come with me being an omega. 

“Because they are awesome, they have also helped me figure out how to find, amongst all the unmated alphas out there who would like to mate with an omega, the people whom I am most likely to fall for. 

“It is a compatibility slash affinity questionnaire, reviewed and approved by Counselor Deaton, that any unmated alpha will have access to online, starting tonight at midnight, Pacific Standard Time. It will be up for a month.

“So please, if you would like to be my mate, fill it up, even if you’ve already written to me and also, please stop sending me letters and photos and whatever because that will not influence the results. I must admit that car was a really nice touch, actually, even if my Alpha didn’t believe it really was no strings attached, _though it said so clearly in the letter, Dad!_

“Anyway. As soon as school is out, I will contact the people the questionnaire will have helped select as most likely to be my mate, and meet with them. I’m supposed to instinctively fall in love with the right person, so we will trust that, and see how it goes! 

“The URL to the questionnaire is on the info sheet you got earlier. Thanks!”

Stiles ignored the calls and yells and general mayhem that took place behind him as he turned around and he walked off the stage as quickly as he could. The three Hales and his dad followed him out, and Scott, Allison and Melissa were waiting for him outside the stage door.

“Dude! You were awesome!” said Scott, grinning at him.

“You were! And sweet and funny! You did so well Stiles!” Allison gave him a big hug.

“We should go,” Peter reminded them.

They exited through the back door of the Council House, which was guarded by Vern Boyd and one of the Hale wolves.

Scott, Melissa and Allison got in the back of the first car that pulled up, the SUV they had ridden in before, and John got in the front. Derek, who was driving, left as soon as they were all inside. Another car followed as soon as he drove off, and Michael jumped out, letting Peter take the wheel. Michael opened the back door for his mother, and Joshua walked around to sit in the back as well, next to his wife. Stiles was left to ride in the front passenger seat. 

The car was very nice, dark blue with black leather inside. As Peter drove away from the Council House, you could barely hear the engine.

“Derek said the SUV was the Alpha’s car. Whose car is this?” asked Stiles, relaxing in the perfectly contoured seat.

“Mine,” said Peter. “It’s a Lexus 450. Do you like it?”

“Dude! What’s not to like? It’s gorgeous.”

“The boy has good tastes,” remarked Peter, smiling.

Talia laughed. “That was the right answer, Stiles. This car comes second only to Pip in Peter’s heart.”

Stiles would have loved to continue to joke around, but he was concerned about the press conference.

“So, uh… Do you think I did OK in there? I wasn’t as nervous as I thought I would be, but now it’s all kind of a blur.”

“I thought you did very well Stiles,” said Joshua. “You said what you needed to say, and you didn’t try to pretend to be someone you are not, which would be extremely counter productive at this point.”

“As your packmate said, you were funny and sweet, but also thoughtful and articulate,” agreed Talia. “In other words, you gave everyone a glimpse of who you are, which is exactly what you needed to do.” 

“OK. Good.” He sighed in relief. “Well, I’m glad that’s over. They’re all going to go home now, right?”

“Right,” she said. “All press passes will be revoked tomorrow at noon. Alan Deaton will send them weekly e-mails with benign information about what you are up to, and they will be invited to a monthly press conference where you can just say hello and let him answer questions.” She added contentedly, “This next month should be a lot less stressful all around.”

Almost not daring to hope, Stiles asked, “Do you think I might be able to go back to driving myself to school, and, you know, maybe go and do stuff with my friends once in a while?”

“You should not fool yourself into thinking you are no longer in danger, Stiles. There are unmated alphas within the Township, and we cannot count on their control to be perfect,” Peter pointed out. “But it is officially our duty to watch over you now and our constant close protection will indeed allow you more freedom, like that of driving yourself and your packmates to and from school, and of going out with friends occasionally or even of attending the next Lacrosse game.”

“Oh, wow! That’s awesome! But, uh… What do you mean exactly by constant close protection?”

“Until you find a mate, one of our alphas will be with you at all times,” said Talia.

“You mean from morning to night?”

“No. Actually, your Alpha has agreed to let one of our pack members live in your home. He will be with you twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. We will also continue the distance surveillance, which we started the night you Sorted. You will be safe, Stiles,” explained Joshua reassuringly.

“Twenty four seven? Living in someone else’s pack? That’s an awful lot to ask of someone, isn’t it?”

Joshua chuckled and Talia was chortling when she said, “Stiles, no one seemed to see it as a hardship. We had a lot of volunteers. Our alphas pulled rank on each other, for a chance to be your personal bodyguard. It ended in a huge row amongst my own children. I had to arbitrate.”

“Are you kidding?”

“She’s not,” confirmed Peter, his eyes on the road. “I was eliminated on the lame allegation that I already have a job, and that since I’d never leave Pip behind, he would miss his cousins and playmates.”

Joshua said, “Laura had to be reminded that she has a mate and a dissertation to write for her PhD in psychology, as well as her training with Talia.”

“Which left only Michael and Derek,”said Talia, “because thankfully, Samuel is not home from university, yet.”

“Derek said Michael was in charge of our pack’s combat training, and couldn’t leave,” said Joshua.

“Michael pointed out that Derek, though he has learned everything I had to teach, is working on a masters in pack jurisprudence, and is too busy,” said Peter.

Talia continued, “Then it was, “I’m older, more responsible!””

“I’m closer to his age, I can relate to him better!”

“I’m nicer!”

“I’m more threatening!”

“I’m taller!”

“I’m bigger in wolf form!”

The three Hales just laughed. 

“It was extremely entertaining,” admitted Peter.

“But, don’t they have mates to worry about, like Laura does?” asked Stiles, who had a hard time imagining the two impressive alphas bickering like children.

The atmosphere in the car sobered.

“Eleven years after his Sorting, Michael has yet to meet his mate,” explained Joshua.

Well, that sucked. Poor Michael. That was a long time to wait. 

“And Derek,” Talia took a shaky breath. “Derek was cleaved, Stiles. His mate died, almost six years ago.”

“Oh.” Stiles could not even imagine it. He father was widowed, and Stiles knew how much he missed his wife, how profound his grief was. Yet he also knew his dad cared deeply for Melissa, and that one day, he would marry and love again. 

Peter was cleaved, but his and his mate’s bond lived in Pip, his son, the living legacy of his mate. 

But Derek... He had lost his bonded mate so young! He would never love again, never feel sexual desire again, and without the love for a child to fill his heart, he would yearn for all he had lost for the rest of his life. 

Stiles was shocked at the sorrow that filled his heart for the other man. He felt Derek’s loss as a physical ache in the center of his body, as if he himself were being gutted. He breathed through it, trying to relax, to distance himself from it, astonished at his own empathy for the werewolf.

“I had no idea,” he managed to say. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to have brought back bad memories.”

Talia smiled kindly at him. “It is better that you should know, I think, because Derek did win the argument with Michael, reminding us his SASSH score is higher than Michael’s by a point, so you will be spending a lot of time with him in the near future. Now at least, you will not unknowingly stumble into that conversation.”

“And now I understand why he is always so stern,” said Stiles. “I’m still surprised he volunteered truthfully. I don’t think he likes me very much.”

“What happened to him was a tragedy, but believe me, Derek’s grumpy demeanor predates it. Laura nicknamed him Prince Surly the Churlish when he was four years old,” said Joshua.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but when he is with the people closest to him, those he trusts, he is warm and loving. He just never shows that side of himself to those outside his inner circle, even within our pack. He never did, even as a child,” explained Talia. “But the fact that he spoke to you when you were distraught, even teased you a little, shows he does like you. He is not one to extend himself like that for people who don’t matter to him. He just can’t be bothered.”

Stiles was not convinced, and truth be told, he had been disappointed that after his initial show of concern, Derek had not seemed interested in befriending him further. But it didn’t really matter. It was stupid to let it hurt his feelings. He had no doubts about Derek’s ability to protect him, and that was all that mattered. He had plenty of friends already, after all. Why did he care if Derek liked him or not? Stupid. 

They had made it to the circular drive in front of Hale House.

“It’s good to be home,” sighed Talia. “It’s been a while since I’ve looked forward to a moon run as much as I do tonight’s.”

She and Joshua got out of the car and Stiles was about to open his door when Peter called his name. 

“Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

Peter’s eyes were very blue, and intense, but then he relaxed and Stiles realized that he was going to dismiss whatever he had been about to say.

“Peter, no. Tell me.”

Peter nodded, as if Stiles had just confirmed something for him, and said, “Talia may be Derek’s mother, but I know my nephew better than anyone. He cares about you, Stiles. A lot. Because of what happened in the past, he forgets he has value beyond his duty. He is to be your bodyguard, your shield, your protector, and he won’t want to _impose_ by allowing himself to be anything else, no matter how much he craves your friendship.”

Peter smiled, his expression filled with genuine affection. “Trust me, all right. Don’t let him fool you. Just wear him down.”

“Just wear him down?” Stiles grinned. “I can do that. But, Peter, he is older, and badass, and, you know, a Hale. Why would he want us to be friends?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Because you’re you.”

Stiles would have loved for him to explain what that meant, but Scott opened his door and said, “Stiles, would you get out of the car? We’re all waiting for you!”

“Sorry, Mr. McCall. My fault,” said Peter as Stiles exited.

“Oh my god, no! I’m sorry! I didn’t realize you two were talking. I thought Stiles was just orgasming over how awesome this car is. I didn’t mean to interrupt!”

“You didn’t. You like the car?”

“Dude! What’s not to like! It’s gorgeous!”

Peter burst out laughing.

“Let’s go, Bro,” said Stiles. “See you later, Peter!”

Peter was still laughing as he drove off to go park in the packs garage.


	19. The Flower Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Stiles' press conference, his whole pack must spend the full moon at the Hales, for protection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to make sure we are all on the same page.
> 
> When they Sort, people find out if they are alphas or betas, their sexual orientation, and whether they have a mate or not.  
> Those who do not have mates (the vast majority) are called un-mated or non-mated alphas and betas.  
> Stiles is an exception. As an omega, he will find his mate amongst non-mated/ un-mated alphas.
> 
> Non-mated people fall in love and marry, like we do. If their spouse dies, they are widowed, and can love and marry again.  
> Mated people find their mate and bond. If their bonded mate dies, they are cleaved, and can never love or even have sex again.

19

 

A nice lady named Clara, who had a lovely southern accent, took the Stilinski pack to a guest suite, on the second floor of the main house. It had four bedrooms with en-suite baths and a pleasant sitting room, with a view of the gorgeously landscaped area behind the house.

“I’ve never been in the house of a pack this large,” said Melissa, looking out the window at the two long wings, which extended back from the main structure.

“I Know!” said Clara laughing. “I married into the pack. There were only twenty people in my original pack in South Carolina, and we were just one big family. It took some adjustment, at first. Here, it takes eight of us just to run the place! There is single housing, mates housing, family housing, the kitchens, the laundry, the training schedules, it’s crazy!”

It was obvious that she loved it though. She was young, in her twenties, pretty in a quirky way, with a short rounded nose and a wide mouth, freckles on her milky skin and laughing blue eyes, a space between her small front teeth and a thick braid of copper colored hair halfway down her back. She wore a simple work dress printed with small flowers, which came to her ankles, short socks and lime green crocks. 

“Anyway,” she said. “Everyone is eating together this evening, in the big dining room on the ground floor. It’s buffet style. Just come down anytime and make sure to eat, because the run will start around five thirty with the full moon so early, and you know how it goes, we’ll be out half the night! That’s also the place where you guys can have breakfast before school tomorrow,” she added, speaking to Allison and Scott. “Alpha Hale was hoping the rest of you would share breakfast with her family, in the Alpha’s family private quarters. They’re on this floor, pass the central staircase, big double doors, you can’t miss them. Alpha Talia said to come around eight.”

She walked to the door. “All right. Make yourselves at home and come on down. Just follow your nose to the dining room. See you soon!”

They looked around at the comfy furnishings, the fireplace with a painting of the preserve above it, the bouquet of flower on the coffee table.

“Our home away from home,” commented Melissa, sounding weary.

“But it’s nice, isn’t it?” asked Allison, smiling tentatively.

“It is,” John agreed, looking relieved. “I know you guys can’t tell, but,” he took a deep breath, “it has no scent. It must have been cleaned, aired out, everything steamed. As soon as we spread around, it will smell like our pack.” He smiled and said to Melissa “It’s going to be fine, Mel. Actually, since we’re going to be fed, too, it’ll be kind of like a vacation!”

Watching her relax at his words, Stiles realized Melissa had been worried about his dad, about his discomfort at having his pack in someone else's territory. Creating a Stilinski enclave within their own home, to placate his Alpha instincts, showed amazing thoughtfulness on the Hales’ part.

Scott came out of one of the bedroom. “This one’s yours, Stiles. Your stuff’s already in there.”

“It is?”

Stiles entered the big square bedroom with bluish grey walls and polished hardwood floors. Indeed, his overnight bag was on the desk in front of one of the three large windows, and his backpack was on the chair in front of it.

There was a king size bed against the wall to the right, with a dark blue comforter, a poster of a Lacrosse game on the wall above it, and a bean bag with a game console in front of a TV to the left, in the corner. In a low bookshelf left of the bathroom door, there were DVDs and several computer games, as well as comic books and some paperbacks.

The bookshelves on the right of the bathroom door went all the way to the ceiling and held leather-bound books. The well used leather chair and its footrest in that corner got daylight from the window, and were next to a floor lamp. It would be a perfect reading spot.

There was a note left on his overnight bag.

_Stiles,_  
The WIFI password is HNssmy40.  
Let me know if you need anything.  
Derek H.  
PS: It is safe for you to run with your pack  
and ours this evening, if you wish to do so. 

Scott came back into the room. “The other rooms are nice too, but Dude! Ours doesn’t have TV and video games. You’re getting preferential treatment, here!”

“Well, you’re going to be at school tomorrow, and I’m going to be here until my dad gets home after his shift, so that’s probably why.”

Allison came in, dressed for the run, which reminded Stiles he needed to change too, because running with a couple hundred wolves? He was all over it!

“Still! No fair!” complained Scott. “The strawberry moon is mid-morning next month. We’re gonna need another bean bag in here, because you’re sharing.”

Oh. Right. This wasn’t a one-time thing. Stiles took off his shirt and put on a long sleeve running top. They would probably spend every full moon at the Hales until Stiles found his mate. Uh. Why hadn’t he thought of that?

“The strawberry moon is Cora’s Sorting moon,” Stiles remembered. “I wonder how she feels about us being here for it.” He went into his bathroom to exchange his black jeans for running pants.

“I’ll ask her if it’s OK,” said Allison. “I’ll tell her we would be fine just staying in.”

Scott whined. “I hope we don’t have to! I’ve never not ran. Urgh. I’d be climbing the walls.”

“I bet I could distract you,” purred Allison suggestively, wrapping herself around him.

Scott smiled at her. “Uh-huh, I bet you could…”

“Guys! Innocent bystander present, here,” gripped Stiles, coming out of the bath. “Being traumatized! Stop with the suggestive eye contact! Get a room! Hey, actually, you _have_ a room! And it’s not this room! Out! Out!”

Allison laughed, stepping away from her mate. “All right, you big baby. Come on, put on your running shoes and let’s go eat.”

“I’m going to go get some shorts on,” said Scott.

Allison walked around Stiles’ room. She looked in a basket that was on the shelves next to the TV and lifted a pack of Reese’s peanut butter cups and a small bag of Doritos out of it. Apparently, it was filled with his favorite snacks. “Someone went to a lot of care to make you feel at home, here.”

Stiles crouched down to tie his shoes. “Yeah. It’s nice, but it makes me feel a bit weird, too. They all act like they owe me, but they really don’t, you know? The boy in the story is just that: a boy in a story. Between that and the fuss people make about me being an omega, I feel like a complete fake, getting special treatment for stuff I had nothing to do with.” He stood up again.

Allison slipped under his arm and put hers around waist. She smelled nice, a really light fragrance, like flowers. “Maybe you should stop thinking that you get special treatment because of what you did as a toddler or because of how you Sorted. Has it occurred to you that maybe people are nice to you because they genuinely like you?”

“Pfft. You like me because you are actually an angel in disguise. Unlike you, most people are not made of flowers, sunshine and loving kindness.“

Allison burst out laughing. “Flowers, sunshine and loving kindness?”

“Totally. If you don’t believe me, ask Scott.”

“Yes, because asking my mate would insure a fair assessment! To him, I’m perfect, _by definition._ ”

“Just accept it, Allison. You’re the female version of Danny. Everybody loves you, because you both are awesome. Why would people, who are not my pack or the friends on whom I’ve grown on through years of exposure, even like me?” 

She smiled at him. “Because you’re you!”

Again, before he had a chance to ask what the heck that meant, their Alpha called out.

“Let’s go, everyone!”

Stiles was starving, and the thought of food pushed all other concerns aside, especially when they got to the ground floor and delicious smells guided them to a huge room filled with boisterous people who were eating as only werewolves could. All of them wore nothing but short belted robes, and they talked and laughed, the mood celebratory.

“Hello, Stilinski pack!” said Laura, who walked in right behind them. She looked around the room with them, as if seeing her pack through their eyes. “Welcome to the Hales’ moon madness!” She laughed. “Come, let’s get food.”

They followed her to a buffet line, and like her, grabbed a tray, plates and cutlery, just like at the school cafeteria. That’s were the similarities ended, because the food looked delicious and smelled great, and there were so many choices, Stiles was already planning a return trip.

“This is awesome!” Scott rejoiced. “So. Much. Food.”

Allison laughed at her mate, the proverbial bottomless pit.

“Oh, my!” Melissa marveled. “Desserts! Lots of desserts!” Melissa had a huge sweet tooth. “That’s it. I’m eating nothing but desserts!”

John laughed, looking at her fondly. “You’re in heaven, aren’t you!”

As Stiles reached the end of the line, Pip showed up next to him. “Come sit next to me! I saved you a spot!”

Stiles smiled. “Sure!” He followed the blond boy. Despite being thirteen, Pip still looked like a child, showing no sign of approaching puberty, reminding Stiles of himself. 

The table they joined was made for eight, and Stiles got the last seat, between Pip and a young woman he didn’t know, and across from Cora. Peter was sitting next to her, across his son. On her other side was Liam, and then Derek. Liam and Derek were deep in conversation.

Pip sniffed Stiles shoulder, unabashedly.

“You smell so good!”

“Pip!” Peter groused.

“Well! He does!”

“I know. But show some manners and keep your nose to yourself.”

The woman next to him Stiles smiled. “You must be tired of people telling you your scent is wonderful! Hello! I’m Ella.” She had the Hales’ women look about her, with long straight hair, a lovely face, and an athletic built. She leaned back on her chair, “and this is my mate Gin.”

Gin was a good-looking Asian man with spiked hair and an easy grin. He had colorful tattoos going up one of his arms before disappearing under his sleeve, and more visible in the v-neck of his robe. 

“Hey!”

“Hi. I’m Stiles, It’s nice to meet you.”

Cora noticed his running clothes and said, “Cool! You’re coming!”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t miss it. The biggest moon run I’ve ever join was last summer, at my uncle’s and it was, like, twenty five people.”

“I spent the summer with my aunty Martha’s pack in New Mexico," said Cora. "Fifteen people. I liked it a lot, running in the desert, under the stars. It was quiet. Peaceful.”

“I’ll go there too, when it’s my turn, Daddy said,” Pip added.

“The coyotes won’t know what to make of you, son,” joked his dad, “an arctic wolf in the desert.”

“I’ll make friends with them!” said Pip, enthusiastically. “They’re fast, coyotes, and brave, and quiet! I love their howls.” He tilted his head back, and let out a very realistic coyote bark. 

A few people answered with more coyote’s barky howls, piercing and lamenting. It was pretty cool.

“Well done! Scott and I can imitate foxes gekkering,” said Stiles to Pip.

“Oh! Do it! Do it!” begged Pip.

Stiles did. It was pretty weird sound, and quite realistic, especially when Scott answered from the other side of the room.

“That is very good,” commented Gin. “How did you learn?”

“A few years ago, a vixen had kits under our wood pile, and now we have a litter of them every year. The kits are really cute. They gekker when they play fight. We watch them with binoculars from the kitchen window.”

“I love it on the full moon when all our babies and little kids turn into pups,” said Pip. “Clo and Rumi are so cute!“

“I’ve got to admit I can’t wait to see all of you shift,” said Stiles. “We can hear you answering your Alpha when we run in the preserve, and it is reassuring, to listen to the howls of your pack, so many and so strong, knowing you protects us all. Off course I saw quite a few of you on my Sorting moon, but I cannot wait to see your whole entire pack.”

Cora smiled, a bit of familial pride showing.

“Believe me,” said Gin, “It’s a sight to see! I’ll never forget my first run with the Hale pack, or my first time shifting to a wolf.”

Stiles asked him about those experiences. Gin was a great storyteller. He evidently had never shared his thoughts with those at the table before because soon Pip, Cora and even Peter were asking him questions about his old pack and his first time meeting Ella.

Stiles noticed that Liam was still speaking to Derek, who seemed absorbed in what the teen was telling him. Apparently, Talia was wrong in thinking that Derek’s making time for him when he had been upset had meant Stiles was in any way special. Here Derek was, doing the same for Liam. Apparently, listening to distressed teenagers was Derek’s idea of public service. He looked away from them, unreasonably disappointed.

Why did he care? He himself had made an effort to be extra friendly with Liam, who had looked pretty distraught that afternoon. Why did he want Talia and Peter to be right that he was somehow important to Derek? Why did he want to be more than a duty to the man?

Well, it was pretty obvious now that he thought about it. Derek was incredibly attractive, a powerful and impressive alpha whose abilities had been honed by his training. His tragic past and reluctant personality only added to his appeal. Of course Stiles would want to be special to him, would want to be the one person outside of his family to whom Derek showed his warmth and vulnerability.

Who wouldn’t? Wasn’t that the trope of thousands of heartwarming books and movies: A man, isolated by his past and responsibilities, reluctantly opening up to the protagonist, and consequently to the joys of the world around him? Stiles smiled to himself. He was such a cliché.

He had not realized he was staring at Derek until the man met his eyes. Then, of course, Stiles turned bright red and looked away, because he was a complete idiot. He excused himself and went to get more food, to distance himself from his own awkwardness. He didn’t want to overstuff himself before running, but neither could he pass up homemade ice cream. 

It wasn’t long before people started to take back their trays and help with clean up. Then they all started to shed their robes and shift into wolves. Stiles worked hard at keeping his eyes to himself, and hurried outside, Liam close behind him.

“I didn’t know where to look,” admitted Liam, laughing at himself. “No one in my pack is a wolf!”

Stiles grinned at him. “I know they think nothing of it, and I’m used to sharing showers with my Lacrosse team mates, but yeah, still.”

Wolves in all colors and sizes were streaming out, filled with playful energy. A gorgeous white wolf, with some pup still in him, came to greet stiles enthusiastically, so much so that Stiles ended up on his ass, laughing, as the wolf licked his face. His eyes were very light grey, almost matching his white fur.

“Pip?”

The wolf shook his tail, yipped happily, sniffed Stiles neck with his cold nose and then ran off to join a group of other young wolves. Stiles looked around and saw his Alpha. He was happily surprised when he made his way to the rest of the Stilinski pack, that Melissa was there as well. 

She smiled at Stiles. “I probably won’t be able to run for long, but when am I ever going to be safer than tonight? Alpha Hale’s oldest son offered to run with me!” She explained. “Besides, this is so amazing. I don’t want to miss it.”

There were wolves all around them, everywhere you looked. The pack parted for a black, a brown and a grey wolf leaving the house together: Talia, Joshua and Peter, was Stiles guess. They stopped next to the Stilinski pack, and stared pointedly at John. They were honoring his status as the Alpha of an allied pack, inviting him to lead with them. He chortled self-deprecatingly, but accepted the honor nonetheless, wolfing out and jogging ahead with them, on Joshua’s right side.

Stiles was distracted from the leaders when a huge black wolf came to his side, close enough that Stiles’ lax hand ended up running along its powerful neck and resting between its shoulders.

“Oh! Derek? Uh, hi.” He couldn’t help but run his hand through the thick soft fur. Derek’s head was chest high on him, his pelt the purest black. He looked up at Stiles, his wolf eyes the exact color of his human ones, his mouth stretched in what could have passed for a wolfy smile. His fang were huge and white, yet, as ridiculous as it sounded, he looked friendlier as an enormous wolf than he did as a man.

“Is this Derek?” asked Allison, smiling at the wolf.

“Yes, it is,” said Stiles. Self-conscious, he removed his hand from Derek’s fur, but Derek just leaned on him, and he was so heavy Stiles had to grab a hold of his neck or fall over.

Allison giggled. “Well, I won’t be worrying about your safety from now on!” There was a brown wolf next to her, tall as well, but much less massive than Derek. “This is Cora. She offered to run with me. Isn’t she gorgeous?”

Melissa looked a bit intimidated by the very large wolf at her side, but he nuzzled her hand like a big puppy, and she laughed at its antics. “Michael volunteered to keep me company for as long as I wanted to stay out,” she explained.

A long legged silvery grey wolf joined them as well, giving Liam a bit of a shove. Liam looked at it, smiling uncertainly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know who you are. Laura?”

“Nah,” said Stiles. “Laura is black, and besides, this is a male.”

The wolf got its front paws on Liam’s shoulders, and looked at him. “Oh!” said Liam smiling. “Your eyes! They’re the same! It’s Gin,” he told Stiles, happily.

At the front, Talia raised her head and howled, her wolf voice powerful and compelling, but just as melodious as her human one. Her pack’s answer was almost deafening. As the large pack around them quieted, John howled for his own pack. Only Scott and Stiles answered, their voices almost lost in the joyful noise of close to two hundred wolves waiting to run off. Allison never joined her voice to theirs, which Stiles had always interpreted as a show of respect for the family she had left behind, and Melissa probably didn’t even think to do so.

Talia howled again, and the pack took off, dispersing, running in fluid groups into the slanted light of the early evening, the leaders far ahead already. 

Their group started slowly, following Melissa’s pace, but she cried, “Shoo, all of you! Don’t wait for me! Do your own thing! Make the best of this!”

“Alpha Hales gave us escorts so we can all go at our own pace,” agreed Allison. “Go on Scott! For once, run as fast as you want!”

“You’re sure? Stiles, you don’t mind?” asked Scott, trying hard to hide his excitement.

“No, Of course not. Go on!” Stiles said, laughing at his packmate.

Scott shifted, as did Liam, and they took off, racing with Gin.

Cora woofed once, and Allison sped along with her, joining two other waiting wolves, a black one whom Stiles thought was Laura, and the other, dark brown and still young looking, whom he would have bet was Nora. Apparently, the sisters ran together.

Derek looked at Stiles, as if to ask if he was ready, and when Stiles said, “Let’s go, big guy,” he took off toward the thickest part of the woods, his shoulder next to Stiles hip. The Hale territory was enormous, and soon, they were running alone.

Derek ran faster and faster, setting a punishing pace, and in the fading light, Stiles held on to his scruff, trusting the wolf to choose the terrain with his human companion in mind, and only concentrating on keeping up.

Even though he was in great shape, Stiles knew he couldn’t keep up running as full on as he was for all that long, especially when their path started heading up hill. He wondered if Derek was testing him somehow. He decided to push himself as long and as hard as he could before asking for a break, because despite how challenging the run was, he enjoyed the feeling of togetherness and communion he felt with his four legged companion.

Hoping he wouldn’t be found lacking, he was about to beg off when they reached the top of a promontory, and Derek immediately slowed to a trot. They were fairly high, on a craggy flat with low shrubs, above the top of the trees below, and the light wind blowing in his face helped cool Stiles off. It also carried the sound of voices. Stiles was about to walk to the edge and look down, but Derek grabbed his wrist delicately in its mouth and gently pulled him down.

It didn’t take long for Stiles to get his meaning, and he got down on his belly just as the wolf had. They both crawled to the edge and looked at the forest floor bellow. 

The long sprint Derek had subjected Stiles to suddenly made sense. In a clearing at the foot of the promontory were the Reyes and Boyd packs, joking around as they waited for the full moon. It was only a couple of minutes before Erica let out a long and powerful howl, her blond hair silvery in the moon light. 

Her eyes were closed, her body tense. After a moment, just as Scott had done, she shook herself. Even as far from her as he was, Stiles could see the wolf ears that now parted her hair, and when she opened her eyes, there was no mistaking their crimson color.

She howled again, powerfully, but walked submissively toward her mother who bend over her neck for the ritual bite then hugged her daughter tightly. Stiles heard her next words clearly: “Erica Reyes of the Reyes pack is an alpha. Someday she may lead a pack of her own.” She backed away, her hands on Erica’s shoulders. “You honor me by trusting me to continue to lead our pack, Erica. Thank you.”

It had been just like Scott’s sorting. But then, Erica announced, “I have a mate, and I have found him. My mate is Vernon Milton Boyd.”

“Erica Reyes is my mate,” confirmed Boyd, and you could hear the pride in his voice. “And should you so allow, Alpha Reyes, her pack will be my pack.”

Derek suddenly backed away, and got back on all four. Stiles, who wanted to continue watching his friends, looked up at him, mouthing, “What?”

Derek made a show of sniffing the air, and grabbed his ankle gently, pulling him back from the ledge.

“OK, OK,” gripped Stiles, crawling back and sitting up. “What’s the mat… Oh.” Derek had pushed some dust up in the air with his nose and Stiles realized the wind was no longer blowing in his face. It had died down almost completely. They were no longer downwind from the Preserve, safe in the knowledge that the wind was taking his pheromones away from the Township packs. They had to go. He was instantly on his feet. Grabbing Derek’s scruff again, he said, “Lead the way!”

They did not run as fast as they had done coming up the hill, but they still went down the path at a pretty good clip. They continued on, Derek occasionally scenting the night air, going to a full sprint a couple of times and then slowing down again to an easier pace, until finally Derek just slowed to an easy jog.

Within minutes, they heard yelping, and were joined by a small group of wolves, a couple of adults, one of which carried a tiny pup in its jaw by the back of the neck, and a half a dozen pups of varying ages. They were adorable, yipping, play fighting, and chasing the adults’ tails. Two of them came and jumped around Stile’s legs in welcome.

“Hey Claudia! Hi there Rumi!” The pups looked thrilled he had identified them, but it wasn’t hard. Claudia was black like her mom, and Rumi brown like his dad. Rumi rolled onto his back, asking for a belly rub. Stiles laughed and complied. 

As he got back to his feet, the tawny wolf with the pup in its mouth passed it gently to him, and nosed another wobbly young pup in his direction. Stiles picked the second pup up, and cuddling both warm little balls of fur to his chest, walked alongside the playful group. Derek shamelessly played with the pups, letting them catch his tail, rolling around on the forest floor as they jumped all over him, and giving his younger siblings rides on his broad back. They made it back to the main house, and the two adults went in, leaving Derek and Stiles in charge.

Stiles sat on the stairs, the two sleeping pups in his arms, laughing at Derek and the pups. When the adults came back out, shifted back to humans and wearing their cotton robes, the tawny wolf turned out to have been Clara. She finished braiding her long coppery hair before gently taking the pups from Stiles.

“Thanks for carrying them,” she said with a smile. “They’ll probably sleep till morning, now.”

“How old are they?” asked Stiles.

“Eva is almost one. As a human, she’s not even walking yet. Thomas is two and a half. They are the babies of the pack.” One by one, she pointed to the pups still playing with Derek. “The black and grey one, Lily, is four, Willow, the beige one, almost six, Arthur, the dark grey one, and Max, who’s almost white, are seven, and the twins are eight. Those two look like miniatures of their parents, don’t they? When they reach a hundred and twenty moons, they start running with the adults, because that’s when they start combat training.”

“At age ten? Isn’t that awfully young?”

“And It was changed from a hundred moons to a hundred and twenty only a few years ago. It is still young, but the protection of the Township is the Hale pack’s duty. _Qui desiderat pacem, bellum praeparat_ : Whosoever desires peace prepares for war; no one provokes, nor dares to offend, those who they know to be superior in battle. It has held true for seventy years, although not without the help of the Left Hand, of course.”

“What about those of you who join the pack as adults?” Stiles wondered.

She laughed. “The first three months are no picnic, let me tell you! I got in the best shape of my life. After that, the intensity of your training depends on you role within the pack. It’s still is never less than two hours a day.” She shrugged philosophically. “It is what it is.”

The other caregiver was clapping his hands and calling from the top of the stairs, “Come on, pups! Time for Snack and Snooze!”

 _Snack_ was apparently a magic word, because the pups all ran to him, one of them struggling a little up the stairs until Derek just gave her a lift with his nose. Stiles decided wolf Derek was his favorite Derek by far.

It was fully dark now, and the moon was high in the sky. All was quiet and peaceful. Stiles turned his face to the moon and, as it had when he Sorted, the silver light seem to fill him, running through his veins, erasing his weariness and giving him a surge of boundless energy. He felt a sudden need to run. He howled, a happy and playful sound and laughing, he took off like a shot towards the woods, the brilliant moon lighting his way. He turned around for a moment, thrilled to see Derek bounding after him, and he raced away, the wolf giving chase.

Though he knew it to be impossible, it really felt as if he might be able to outrun the wolf, swift and light on his feet, effortlessly jumping over logs and brambles. It was exhilarating and seemed to go on forever. When he got caught, he and the wolf tumbled to the floor, but somehow Derek managed to wrap his enormous wolf body protectively around him and as they rolled to a stop, he was cushioned by strong muscles and thick, soft fur.

He ended up lying on his back on the forest floor next to a panting Derek-the-wolf, grinning at the sky, buzzing pleasantly with endorphins.

Then it was Derek-the-man lying on his front next to him, resting on his elbow. His face was illuminated by a radiant smile that made it impossible to believe he would ever frown again.

“I thought I would never catch you,” Derek admitted. “How in the world did you run so fast!”

“I don’t know!” Stiles laughed. “I felt like I was flying.”

“You were, just about. It was amazing.” Derek crawled closer, and looked at him intently. “And your eyes… They are like liquid gold. Your packmate Scott was right, the night of your sorting. They are beautiful.” He backed off, and rested his chin on his hands.

“Oh,” said Stiles, “I hadn’t realized they had shifted.” He wished it wouldn’t be awkward to mention he thought Derek’s eyes were beautiful too, because they simply were.

“They turned as you looked up at the moon. Your skin looked golden too, in its light.”

Stiles wondered if Derek’s system was flooded with endorphins to, if that was why he seemed so open.

“I felt as if the light was in my blood, like pure energy. I’ve enjoyed running with my pack on full moons, but this was the first time that I felt I _needed_ to. I wonder if it’s like what all of you feel, about shifting.”

“Was your SASSH tested again after you sorted? I didn’t think humans could run that fast.”

“It was. A complete non-event. Ones, across the board, again.” Stiles rolled onto his elbow, to face Derek. He made sure to keep his eyes above Derek’s shoulders. “Maybe you had just worn yourself out, dragging me along uphill earlier,” he teased.

Derek huffed and rolled his eyes, not even bothering to answer.

“Thank you for giving me a chance to be there to see Erica’s sorting, and watch her find her mate. How did you know where they would be?”

Derek said, “I overheard you mention you hated that you were going to miss her sorting when you spoke of it after Lacrosse practice last night.” He added quickly, “I wasn’t _trying_ to listen. You guys were pretty loud and it was my duty to make sure you got to your father’s cruiser without incident.”

“It’s OK, don’t worry about it.” Stiles waved Derek’s concerns away. “I appreciate you looking out for me, and, well, I am pretty loud.” 

Derek continued, “I ran into your friend Boyd this morning when I dropped off Cora, and I suggested they come to that particular clearing for Erica Reyes’ sorting. The small cliff we were on marks the border between Hale land and the preserve. If by chance the wind was right, and if we could leave the house early enough, and if we could move fast enough, and if he suggested that spot to them and they agreed… Well, there were a lot of ifs, but it seem to mean a lot to you, so since the conditions seemed right, why not?”

The only way Derek could have “ran” into Boyd was for him to have waited for Boyd at the bus stop on the opposite side of the school’s parking lot, but Stiles was not going to mention that. Derek had gone out of his way to make it possible for him to watch Erica’s sorting. He was grateful for that. 

“You were never in any danger,” Derek hurried to reassure him. “I made sure to keep members of my pack between you and the border at all time once the preserve was no longer upwind from us, and the puppy pack is always kept in the safest area of our territory.” He added, “I also thought you’d get a kick out of the pups. You mentioned watching those kits from your kitchen with binoculars.”

At the time, Stiles had believed Derek’s attention to be solely on Liam. Apparently not. “The pups were adorable,” he agreed. “The ones I carried were so relaxed in my arms, like they had melted. And they smelled so warm and sweet.”

Derek looked pleased. “I’m glad you had a good evening. We need to head back, so no one worries about you.”

Stiles stretched. “OK. Are we very far?”

“Nah. The terrain forced you to go to your left several times while you ran. We’re only about mile out. Even at a normal pace, we’ll be there in ten minutes at most.”

By the time Stiles got to his feet again, the wolf was back. Stiles held his scruff again, as the moon was in and out of clouds. When they reached the house, the rest of the Stilinski pack was sitting on the stairs leading to the verandah. 

“Thanks, Derek,” Stiles said. It seemed insufficient, considering how thoughtful Derek had been, but he didn’t know what else to say. “See you later.”

Derek woofed and went straight in as Stiles sat next to his father.

“I’m sorry, were you waiting long?” Stiles asked his dad. “You weren’t worried, were you?

“No, son. You were in good hands. I just got back myself, and Scott and most of the wolves are still out. We figured we could all have some tea and cake together before going up. Apparently, that’s the thing to do. Did you have a good time?”

“The best. I got to walk with all the pups!” Melissa and Allison wanted to hear all about it, and he was just finishing telling them about Derek lifting a pup with his nose when Scott came out of the woods full tilt, with a bunch of other wolves, and slid to a halt in front of them, out of breath and high on life. He grabbed his mate and twirled her up in the air. “How cool was this?” He cried as she laughed. He put her down, his arm around her. “The coolest! It. Was. The coolest!”

They all got up, laughing at his irrepressible good mood. They went in and sat together at a table, where pots of tea and hot cocoa were sitting next to trays filled with cakes and fruits. 

Once they were settled, Stiles listened to what the others had to say about their evening. They had all had an awesome time, the different members of the Hale pack making sure they felt safe and welcome. He never did tell them about watching Erica’s sorting. That felt like a special gift Derek had given him, and he didn’t want to share it.

When Melissa asked each of them what the highlight of their night had been, Stiles mentioned the pups asleep in his arms, totally pliable and relaxed. As they left to go up to their suite, he looked to the table where Alpha Hale sat with her children. Derek, his expression stern once again, met his eyes. Not sure if Derek would hear him over the brouhaha, or if he was listening now and had been listening in to the Stilinski pack’s conversation, he murmured, “I lied. The highlight of my evening was when you and I played chase.”

Derek’s smile was like a sun break in a stormy sky, there and gone, but it warmed Stiles to the core.


	20. New organization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To refresh your memory:
> 
> All-human Stiles sorted as a very rare and precious omega. Many non-mated alphas want him and what he can bring them: A true mate, a boost in their Speed, Agility, Senses, Strength and Healing numbers, increase fertility for themselves and their pack, respect, and more.  
> Stiles has the ability to recognize his true mate amongst the non-mated alphas: he will fall in love. But he can also be force-mated: Brought to orgasm through rape, he will become his rapist's ideal, losing himself forever.  
> As a toddler, he saved the very powerful Hale pack from extermination by Kate Argent, a violent and insane separatist who targeted them because they are the ultimate pack: all of them have mates, and all of them can shift into actual wolves. They owe him many life debts and Talia Hale and Claudia Stilinski were best friends, so they have taken charge of his protection.  
> Derek Hale is his new bodyguard. Cleaved at a young age (his true mate having died), trained as the future Hale Alpha's left hand (diplomat/enforcer), he is guarded and stern, though he has unexpectedly shown Stiles glimpses of warmth and thoughtfulness.

By the time Stiles’ dad woke him up to go to breakfast with Alpha Hale's family, Scott and Allison were long gone. He rushed through the shower, and dressed in the khakis and the long sleeved light green T Danny had insisted he took. He even put on the breaded leather belt that he had unearthed from the back of his closet when Danny had insisted pants had belt loops for a reason.

John and Melissa were ready to go and waiting for him when he came out of his bedroom.

“You look nice, Stiles!” said Melissa, smiling.

Stiles didn’t see how a _specific_ combination of clothes that he wore all the time could make that much of a difference, but whatever.

“Thanks!” And because he had some basic notion of gentleman-like behavior, he added, “I like your flowery dress. It’s pretty.”

Melissa smiled, pleased by the compliment, then blushed when John added, “But it is the woman that makes the dress.”

They walked out of their suite, pass the staircase, and indeed, one could not miss the double doors leading to the Alpha’s quarters. A huge triskele, the symbol of the Hale pack, was engraved into the wood. John warned his family, “Alpha Hale made a point to tell me yesterday that protocol had no place within these doors. This is Talia’s home, her family’s home.” He looked at Stiles, as if he had been aware of his son’s nervousness. “Just relax,” he added.

John knocked on the door, and a smiling Nora opened it.

“Hello, Alpha Stilinski, hello Stiles! Mrs. McCall, welcome! I’m Nora. Please come in. Mom is getting the twins ready for school, and Dad and Laura are in the kitchen cooking, you can go give them some moral support!”

The Alpha’s quarters looked just like a regular home, with well loved furniture and the normal mess of family life: shoes in the entryway, books and toys on the coffee table, children drawings thumb-tacked to the walls, framed family pictures here and there.

The kitchen was large, with mismatched appliances including an enormous double door fridge, its avocado green enameled surface, a good 30 years out of style, covered with magnets and notes. In the center of the room twelve spindleback kitchen chairs with mismatched pads surrounded a big, well-used wooden table, already set for breakfast.

Joshua was frying what looked like a couple dozen eggs and two pounds of bacon on a griddle that covered two burners, and Laura was alternating between popping slices of bread in the toaster and squeezing pink grapefruits with some antiquated automatic juicer. 

The range hood was ridiculously loud, the fan chugging along with a sound between a wheeze and a whistle while the engine of the juicer was grinding in an alarming way while Laura coaxed it to do the job with a continuous stream of compliments and threats.

“’Morning, Stilinski pack!” greeted Joshua loudly, as he piled the crispy bacon on an ugly orange platter lined with paper towels. The eggs were also ready to go, placed on a bed of parsley in an elegant oval serving dish. He turned off the stove hood and added, his voice at a much more reasonable volume now that the fan had stopped and silence had returned to the kitchen, “I hope you’re hungry!”

Laura brought over the toasts lined up in special silver racks, and went back for the two pitchers of juice: a round one with the Kool-aid man etched in the glass, and a tall one made of gorgeous antique cut crystal. “Moooom! Kiiiids! Breakfaaaaast!” she bellowed without warning, and Stiles almost jumped out of his skin.

“Sit! Sit!” insisted Joshua, vaguely waving to the chairs around the table, as he brought over a steaming coffee carafe. He plopped himself down in front of an empty plate, poured himself some coffee in a cup that said “Daddy’s sippy cup” and offered, “Coffee?” He added, seeing them hesitate, “Just sit anywhere. No one cares.”

They did as they were told and John and Stiles each accepted coffee. Stiles cracked up when he noticed that his dad’s cup said, ”I drink coffee ‘cause cocaine’s illegal.” His just had pictures of flying pigs.

The twins ran in, wearing the uniforms of the Beacon Township elementary and middle schools, with the plaid shorts and skirts, white dress shirts and blue and green striped ties. One of the best things about getting to high school was that you left those uniforms behind. They kissed their father and Laura hello and greeted the guests before sitting down and helping themselves to the food.

The front door slammed and Pip came in at a run, skidding to a stop on stocking feet and sitting next to Stiles, yelling “Good morning everybody!”. He poured himself juice as Peter made a much more sedate entrance, a steaming mug already in his hand and speaking on his phone. “ …Lynn and Thierry will pick him up at three. It’s perfect because their daughter just bonded to one of the Boyds and they’ll be gone for a couple of weeks.” 

Talia entered the kitchen from the same direction the twins had, also on the phone, evidently Peter’s interlocutor. “Ooooh. Are they going to that river cabin the Boyds have?”

Both she and Peter turned off their phones and put them away, continuing their conversation live. 

“I love that cabin.” Talia commented, smiling at her brother who gave her cheek a small kiss before sitting next to his son. “It’s so gorgeous. Vernon let Josh and I use it once.” She smiled and wriggled her eyebrows. “That’s where Samuel was conceived.” She sat next to Josh who smiled at her and kissed her lips. 

“Good times…” he commented. 

She chuckled, then turned to her guests. “Alpha Stilinski, Mrs. McCall, omega Stilinski, welcome to our home. Please, dig in…”

Nora walked in, shouldering a schoolbag that seemed to contain half a library. “Hi, Uncle Peter. Hey, Pip!” she said, grabbing a slice of toast. “Mom, don’t forget the meeting with my teacher today, please. Three o’clock.” She dropped her bag, which hit the ground with a sound like bricks, and sat next to her father.

“I won’t,” Talia assured her.

“You _can’t_ , or she won’t let me get off school to go to the symposium. Please, Mom.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

Nora stared meaningfully at her mom. Talia looked back at her daughter, and repeated, “I _promise_ , Sweetheart.” She flashed her red eyes. “Alpha promise.”

Nora huffed. “Fine. Just… don’t forget.” She started to eat as Talia rolled her eyes. 

Talia explained, “Laura’s mate offered to take Nora along to DC to some scientific meeting. He works for Whittemore research and development. She _really_ wants to go…” she added, with a grin. “But enough about Nora. Did you enjoy the run? Are your quarters comfortable? Do you need anything?”

“We are all very comfortable, thank you. Our rooms are like a home away from home. And the run with your pack was amazing,” answered Melissa, the only one whose mouth wasn’t full.

“Until Stiles is mated, no one but members of your pack will enter those rooms,” said Talia. “I know how excruciating it can be to be in another’s territory at the full moon, and how stressful this time is for your pack, so I want to make sure you know that the space is yours and yours alone.” She smiled. “A Stilinski enclave within our land, so to speak. Yours to use at any time.”

John Stilinski put down his cup after taking a sip. “It does feel like that, for which I am eternally grateful to you. I was really dreading this,” he admitted.

Talia nodded in understanding. “You’re welcome. And it is not completely disinterested on my part. One of our own will be living in your pack’s house for the foreseeable future, a Hale alpha in the heart of your territory.” She chuckled. “As the Alpha of an allied pack, I _know_ you will do all you can to make Derek comfortable, but as his mom, I fret.” She grinned and waved vaguely to the breakfast in front of them. “This is a ploy. I’m hoping to ease his way by desensitizing you to our scent. This kitchen is where we gather the most as a family. I am stealthily drenching your smell receptors in Hale pack stench so you might mistake him for one of yours.”

John laughed. “Very stealthy, I hardly noticed. But you forget, Talia. My wife and son carried the Hale pack scent for years. It has only positive connotations for me. Derek will be most welcome.”

With perfect timing, Michael and Derek chose that moment to step into the kitchen. Michael sat at the table, and helped himself to food, while Derek only poured himself a glass of juice and stood, leaning his shoulder against the fridge.

“Didn’t you eat downstairs already?” Laura asked Michael, smacking her eldest brother’s hand as he reached for her plate to try and steal her already buttered toast. “Butter your own!”

“We did,” answered Derek placidly.

“Dad’s eggs taste better, and the bacon downstairs is not as crispy,” explained Michael, his mouth half full.

“You’re so gross,” Nora informed him. She squinted in his direction. “And you missed that spot under your nose again when you shaved.”

Laura grabbed his face and turned it in her direction before confirming, “Yeah, you did.”

Michael shook her off and gestured to Derek. “Why don’t you pick on him? He didn’t even bother shaving!”

Nora shrugged. “Derek doesn’t care what I think.”

“And he wears his stubble well,” added Laura.

All eyes went to Derek, who looked completely indifferent to their scrutiny. He indeed had neglected to shave, and in Stiles opinion, he did wear it well. Very well. His scruff was dense and regular, empathizing his cheekbones and adding dimension to his face. 

He was leaning negligently against the fridge, arms crossed, holding his juice, wearing a tight grey Henley and jeans. The thin grey material hugged his impressive biceps as he took a sip of his juice. Stiles watched his throat work as he swallowed, and his tongue as he caught a drop of juice on his upper lip. Derek’s eyes looked very green in the morning light, and shit, he’d caught Stiles staring.

Embarrassed, Stiles brought his eyes back to his plate and took a bite of the perfectly crisped bacon, but soon his eyes were drawn to Derek again. Derek was still staring at him and Stiles felt himself blush when Derek raised his eyebrows at him questioningly. He looked away again and concentrated on the conversation between Talia Hale and his father instead.

“… ideally share his room.”

“I’m not sure that room can accommodate another bed, and Stiles is pretty messy. I wouldn’t wish sharing living space with him on anyone.”

“Daaad!” Stiles exclaimed, realizing that they were talking about him.

“Son,” said John, looking at him with a pained look on his face. “Your room is a pigsty.”

“Well, that’s just rude!” said Stiles, annoyed. “And inaccurate. Pigsties are dirty. My room is not. It’s a methodical chaos. It just looks a bit disorganized to the uneducated observer. But I know where everything is.”

“Do you know where the vacuum is?” asked Melissa, teasingly.

“My carpet doesn’t need vacuuming. It’s protected from dust by my important papers. And by a few clothes. The ones you can’t put back in the closet because they’ve been worn, but you can’t put in the laundry because they are not dirty. And books, because my shelves are full. Of important stuff. Stuff that’s too fragile for the floor. Like the lego spaceship I built when I was only eight. It’s a precious childhood memory, Melissa. It needs the shelf space.”

“And your bed is unmade because?” she inquired.

“I like to air out the bedding, obviously,” answered Stiles, primly.

“I’m pretty sure Derek will be more comfortable in one of the guest rooms,” concluded John, as if Stiles had proven his point or something.

“I would appreciate my own space during the day, but, Alpha Stilinski, I need to share Stiles’ room at night to best protect him." Derek intervened. "I don’t need a bed. I can shift and sleep on the floor. Being in my alpha form would be best anyway, it will shorten my reaction time. And I’m sure he can make some temporary allowances in his organization to make room for a roommate,” Derek added, smirking at Stiles. 

“Uh… I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Stiles disagreed, panicking a little. He had wet dreams constantly! That was embarrassing enough without witnesses. And, yeah, it also happened that his last two wet dreams had been about _Derek_. So, sharing a room with him? Not the best idea. “You’d never get any sleep!” he rushed on, grasping at straws. “I’m up at all hours with homework, and, uh… I talk in my sleep! Loudly. Scott complained about it all the time when we shared a room last summer. I think I snore, too.”

“That’s all right," said Derek, shrugging off his objections. "I’ll be going to school with you in my wolf form, and I have no intention of staying awake through any of your classes, so I’ll be getting plenty of sleep during the day.”

“Oh. You won’t be coming to school as yourself? I mean, as yourself like now, self?”

“No. I think it will be easier for your friends to ignore me and for you to go on as you normally would with a wolf following you around than it would be with an adult chaperon. The point is for your life to go back to being as normal as possible.”

“Uh. Yeah, I guess you’re probably right. But won’t you get bored?”

Laura laughed. “As a wolf, Derek will get to avoid having to interact with people. He’ll be in haven.” She leaned toward Stiles and fake whispered. “He is a bit antisocial.”

“I’m not antisocial,” Derek corrected, dead serious, “I just hate most people.”

The Hales all chuckled at that. 

“He really does,” Talia admitted, shrugging. “Kids!” she added, noticing the time, “Time to go! The pack school bus waits for no one! Out! Out!”

There was a sudden flurry of activity, with kisses and complaints of sticky hands, reminders to take lunches and last grabs at fruits and slices of toast, then one more “Three o’clock, Mom! Don’t forget!” and the children were off. The adults sat back with sighs of relief.

“Six hours of peace and quiet. Whatever shall we do?” asked Joshua, chuckling.

“Work, sadly,” answered his mate. “Don’t let me forget that meeting with Nora’s teacher. She’d never forgive me.”

Joshua stood up and looked at his watch. “You won’t forget,” he said with a smile, and kissed his wife’s temple. She too pushed her chair back. Peter was back on the phone, walking out with just a good bye nod.

John got up as well. “Melissa and I have both have work today, so, thanks for breakfast, but we better get going too. Stiles? Are you going back to our rooms?”

“Uh… Go ahead, Dad. I’ll catch up.”

He watched them walk away, his dad’s hand resting lightly between Melissa’s shoulder blades. He turned back to the Hales. 

“I can help with the dishes,” he offered Laura.

She smiled at him warmly. “Thank you, Stiles. That won’t be necessary. The housekeeper will be in momentarily.”

Stiles felt like an idiot. Of course the Hale Alpha’s family would have domestic help. It’s not as if the Alpha and her second actually had time to keep house for their eight children! He got up quickly.

“Thanks for breakfast, then! See you guys later,” he said, almost tripping on his own feet in his haste to try and catch up with his dad.

“Wait up, I’ll walk back with you,” said Derek. He took the time to put his empty glass in the sink before joining him.

They left the Alpha’s private quarters at a sedate pace. John and Melissa were long gone. Derek asked, “Do you have to get back? We could go for a walk outside or something. We should probably talk about how things are going to work until the end of the school year.”

“Seems like your mom and my dad already talked it over,” said Stiles, who was aware he had missed some of that conversation.

“I think they were speaking in general terms, Stiles. I think the details are up to you. I’m amenable to anything, as long as I can keep you safe.” He stopped at the head of the stairs. “We can walk in the garden, or go sit in one of the living rooms, or in the library. If you want more privacy, we could go to my quarters or into the woods. My Alpha has forbidden for anyone from the pack to enter your suite,” he added, preempting Stiles’ question.

“You don’t live with your parents?” Stiles asked, instead.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Stiles, I’m almost 24. I have not lived in the Alpha’s quarters since I went away to college.”

“Oh. Right. I guess it’s different in a pack this large.”

Derek nodded. “Your pack is your immediate family. Our pack has many independent family units, even though we are all Hales.” 

Stiles immediately had about five million questions he wanted to ask about a large pack’s dynamics, but Derek touched Stiles lightly on the arm, and asked, “So, where to?” and Stiles’ mind refocused on the conversation they needed to have.

“Let’s walk outside,” he decided. As they headed out, he wondered how Derek, who hardly knew him, had known how to anchor and reel back his wayward mind with a simple touch, something only his pack members knew how to do. Perhaps they had been friends when he and his mother were frequent visitors to the Hales, even though Derek was over six years older than him.

They didn’t stop in the gardens at the back of the main house, heading straight for the woods instead. It was a beautiful day, the sunlight filtering through the tree canopy and dappling the forest floor. Derek obviously had a destination in mind, walking with a purpose, so Stiles just followed. They got to a well hidden clearing by a small stream, at the foot of a large moss covered boulder. Derek sat down on the sandy ground, his back resting on the half buried trunk of a large fallen tree. There was a stone circle between it and the edge of the stream, with the blackened remains of camp fires. It had the feel of a well-used spot, and Stiles sat down on a flat rock, which was the perfect height to rest one’s elbows on one’s knees.

“That’s Samuel’s seat,” Derek said. “He likes to whittle.” And indeed, on the ground were many whittled chips. “Laura sits here,” he said, tapping the ground next to him, “and Michael lies down on his side, over here, with his back against the rock. This place is far enough away from the house that even our Mom can’t hear us.”

Stiles realized the four oldest Hale children were each barely more than a year apart, while there was a seven year gap between Derek and Cora. Evidently, the four eldest were very close. He felt privileged that Derek had brought him to what was obviously a special place for him and his siblings. Perhaps it was because Derek could seem so distant and uncaring at times that his acts of kindness felt so significant. It still amazed him that the man would put his life on hold to be his personal bodyguard.

“Anyway,” said Derek. “Let’s talk about your protection.” 

“Dude, I still don’t get why you volunteered to do this,” said Stiles honestly. 

Derek was silent for a moment. Then he said, his eyes on the empty fire pit, “We used to bring you here sometimes when you were little. You’d ride on Michael’s shoulders on the way, and then you’d sit right here, between Laura and I, or sometimes you would lie down with your back to Michael’s chest and nap. You would hear our nefarious plans for various pranks, but you never sold us out, not even when Peter would try to trick you into telling him our secrets, and he was your favorite.” He chuckled at the memories. “You were just the cutest little kid.”

He looked up at Stiles, an echo of pain on his face and sorrow in his eyes. “The last time I saw you, you were in your mother’s arms, covered in soot, your eyes all red and crying from the smoke, with dirty white streaks on your cheeks. You had angry red burns all over your tiny hands and your little arms. Your hair was pretty much gone, burned away. The ambulance arrived, and your mom got on. She lay down with you on the cot, because you wouldn’t let go of her. The EMTs put an oxygen mask on your mouth and nose, and your dad got in and put his hand on your ankle, taking away your pain. They slammed the doors shut and drove you away. We never had a chance to thank you, never had a chance to say good bye to you.”

Derek shrugged. “I know you don’t remember any of it, and that you feel you don’t deserve our gratitude for something that you can’t even recall, but we remember. Not just the little boy who crawled on embers to save his friends. We remember the precocious and talkative toddler with the big brown eyes and the smiling mouth, who used to laugh so hard he’d fall over, who never stopped asking questions because he had to understand everything, and who was loyal enough to keep our secrets. From what I’ve seen, from what Allison Argent said about you when she was here, you are the man that cute, effusive, brilliant and loving toddler promised to become. I volunteered because I want to get to know who you are now, and help you, if I can.”

Stiles had a feeling that this had been a really, really long speech for Derek Hale, and it would be a lie to pretend that it didn’t make him feel really good that someone like Derek should think so well of him. It was a bit worrisome though. Allison was sweet and generous. She only saw the good in people, and if he had listened to her, Derek’s expectations might be wayyy too high to live up to.

“Fair warning, man. You might set yourself up for a terrible disappointment if you listened to Allison. She is ridiculously nice. I’m mostly a rambling, sarcastic, spastic nerd with the attention span of a gnat and no brain to mouth filter. And a big klutz who is a danger to himself and others.”

Derek raised his eyebrows. “And yet the people who know you best are going to extreme measures to make sure you remain exactly as you are? Go figure.”

“Uh... Yeah. I hadn’t quite thought of it that way.” People like Lydia and Danny, and heck, even Jackson had rallied around him, from the start. Go figure indeed. Stiles was grateful when Derek changed the subject.

“If it works for you, while we are together, I was planning to stay in my wolf form except from the time after you get home from school until bed time. You can pretty much ignore me, drive yourself and your packmates to school in your jeep, and go on about your day as you used to, before your sorting. I’ll just follow you around as unobtrusively as possible.”

Stiles chuckled. “Dude, I seriously doubt you can pull “unobtrusive”. Your wolf is huge!”

“I will draw a lot of attention the first couple of days, but soon enough, people will get use to me being around and they will no longer notice me, you’ll see. I’d appreciate if you carried some basketball shorts and a tank top for me in your back pack, in case I need to shift back.”

“Oh, yeah. No problem.” Stiles could just imagine Derek walking around naked at school. He remembered how he had felt the night before when the Hales had all removed their robes to transform and he didn’t know where to look. “That could definitely come in handy.”

Then Derek asked, completely out from left field, “Do any of your friends own dogs?”

“What? Yeah. Lydia does. Prada. If you can call a Pomeranian a dog. She carries him in a purse, and he sleeps on a cashmere blanket. Outside of school, she brings him everywhere with her, but you hardly even notice he’s there, because he is so meek and well behaved. Why?”

“Has he ever fallen asleep around you?” asked Derek, ignoring the question.

“Yeah, he has. All the time. When we do homework, he is asleep on his little blue blankie the whole time. Sometimes he chases bunnies in his sleep. It’s adorable. Why?” Stiles asked again.

“Because I do that too.”

“Eh?” said Stiles, intelligently. He had no clue what Derek was talking about.

“When I sleep in wolf form, sometimes I chase squirrels in my dreams,” said Derek. “Chasing squirrels is a lot of fun. I love these dreams, even though it is embarrassing that I growl and yip in my sleep like some Pomeranian.”

“Hm. Ok. Aaaand…?”

“You were very uncomfortable earlier at the idea of us sharing a room, and I don’t think it’s really because you’re worried about your snoring keeping me up. Even though you know it would be safest for me to be there, I think you don’t want me to sleep in your room because you have dreams that embarrass you, like my squirrel chasing dreams embarrass me.”

Stiles could feel his cheeks heat up, and was finding it hard looking at Derek. He wasn’t sure he could speak without squeaking, so he just shrugged. 

Derek said, “I think the way to address this problem would be to never, ever mention it when the other has had one of those very fun, yet very embarrassing dreams. What do you think?”

Stiles cleared his throat and said, “Yeah. Yeah, I think that would work.”

“Well, unless you have questions, I guess I’d better get back and pack a few things. At what time do you want to head back to Stilinski House?”

“I have a feeling the food here is probably better than what I would throw together for us, so how about we go after lunch?” offered Stiles.

“That’s fine. You can come down to the dining room around twelve, then. And feel comfortable leaving some of your stuff in your rooms. They won’t be disturbed.”

TBC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was not the most exciting, but hey! I'm back to writing after the intense honeymoon phase I shared with my new partner so that's good, right?  
> He was away on business, and we are both back at work, so things returned somewhat to normal, except for the being intensely in love, constantly horny, and unbelievably happy. Who knew? I sure never saw that coming...  
> Anyway, I would love to know you guys are still reading, and that this story has a following. Yes, that's me asking for feed-back. I need all the encouragements I can get...


	21. Omega pheromones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just so you remember and not wonder what the heck he is doing there, Liam made an apparition before my hiatus. Stiles met him on his way to see Alpha Hale, in Hale house. Liam was with Laura, and clearly upset. Then they met again for the flower moon run with the Hale, where Derek was speaking to Liam during dinner.
> 
> Last chapter, Derek was assigned as Stiles bodyguard until he finds his mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may seem a bit random, but I hate loose ends, and this will take care of a few that would otherwise been kept hanging at the end of the fic.
> 
> And my beta is away on vacation, so...

The compatibility/affinity questionnaire had been up for three weeks now and it had been filled out by four thousand three hundred and twenty six non-mated alphas and counting. Stiles thought it was ridiculous, really, that so many people should think an omega would change their life for the better, but none of the others seem to feel that way. Most of the candidates, however, had been automatically red-flagged: Mostly they were too far, too old, or too young, but some had also only been interested in women before, some believed being human was somehow a handicap, and a few did not think their pack could welcome four extra alphas.

There were a thirty-nine alphas left, but Lydia had insisted it would not do Stiles any good to know how many of those had scores that showed true compatibility with him. She and Derek would work out the order in which he would go and visit candidates, and she and Deaton felt it would be best if, when he first met them, he was not prejudiced by knowing their actual compatibility scores. He had decided to just trust them on that.

As was often the case these days, Lydia had come to Stilinski house after school, along with Jackson and Danny, and all of them were doing their homework together. They could have gone anywhere now, but they had all gotten comfortable in the Stilinski's home, and no one ever suggested meeting somewhere else. 

Liam, who now lived with the Reyes pack and whom Scott had taken under his wing, joined them most days as well. Once again, that night, they jokingly wondered when Boyd and Erica would return from isolation. They’d already been gone a week longer than expected. 

That evening, Lydia was doing some complex statistics, and Stiles wondered if it was some kind of special project, because he was in the same math class and doing differential equations. Danny and Allison were working on some French dialogue they had to write together, and Scott, Liam and Jackson were talking Lacrosse strategy for the coming game: Liam had turned out to be an outstanding player, even though he was only a freshman. 

As he did every night, as soon as they had returned home, Derek had gone up to the room that was his private space within Stilinski house. Stiles could understand how anyone his age would need a break after spending the day surrounded with the usual high school drama, but Derek still did seem more antisocial than most. 

He had just come down, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and had gone straight back up, not even looking in their direction when Danny asked, quietly, watching Derek disappear up the stairs again.

“Does he ever spend time with you guys? What does he do for fun?” 

“He comes down for dinner, sometimes he watches baseball with my dad, or a movie,” said Stiles, shrugging.

“He is pretty quiet. He works out a lot,” added Scott. “Some of his packmates delivered work out equipment for his room when he first moved in, and from the hallway, I hear the ringing of free weights almost every time I pass by. I asked if he wanted company once, someone to spot him or whatever, and he just said no, that he was fine. I think he’s just a loner.”

Stiles did not comment. As soon as Derek had moved in, Stiles had resumed his morning runs. After a week of being alone on the trail with his furry black shadow, he had remarked to the wolf how much faster time would go by and how much more pleasant running would be if he had someone to talk to. The next morning, Human-Derek had been stretching on the front porch, wearing bran new running shoes, a tank top and sweats that had been cut above the knees.

Stiles had not been able to restrain from smiling. At first, their exchanges had been limited to Derek giving him pointers about tucking in his flailing left elbow, or about reducing the height of his steps and concentrating on putting his energy into forward motion. Whereas the wolf had followed at Stiles’ pace, human Derek pushed him to run faster and harder, the run too strenuous to carry on a conversation.

Derek’s focus was still mostly Stiles safety. He taught him to move off trail and through the trees, to make being spotted more difficult and being aimed at almost impossible. He talked about how to circle back on himself and pay attention to the wind to make tracking him challenging, and reinforced that if being chased, Stiles should trust his hearing, as limited as it was, to spot his pursuers, and never, ever look back.

But Stiles was a teenage boy, in great shape already. It had only taken a few days for him to find his stride, and for his stamina to pick up to the point that, even at the faster pace, he could carry a conversation. He just had to find topics that Derek found worthy of having an opinion about. That is how they tried to figure out why, on the full moon run, Stiles had been able to run as fast and effortlessly as he had. Being human, as proven by his recent SASSH test, he should not have been able to get a boost from the presence of the moon, and yet both agreed that no matter how much he pushed himself now, he was nowhere near the speed and agility he had demonstrated that night.

Little by little, however, their conversation drifted to more ordinary topics. Still, Derek’s comments were always concise and to the point. The only subject that Stiles found Derek would discuss readily was his siblings. Stiles learned that although Derek and Michael looked the most alike, they were very different in character, as Michael was gregarious, friendly, and physically affectionate. Derek was in awe of his openness, his easy trust. He thought Michael’s willingness to give everyone a chance and sometimes be disappointed in people was proof of Michael’s inner strength. 

Laura was the next Hale Alpha. It was not widely known, just as the actual number of Hale wolves wasn’t, but Derek seem to know Stiles would keep what he told him to himself. Derek admired his sister, who, like his mother, was a natural born leader. Though it was a terrifying responsibility and that at the time, Derek had not been convinced he was equal to the task, he had never thought to refuse when Laura had officially chosen him as her future Left Hand. Not letting her down had motivated him to equal and perhaps even surpass his uncle’s skills. There were no sacrifices he had not been ready to make to be the Left Hand his future Alpha and the Hale pack deserved.

Now, he felt he had achieved his goals, that he was ready for his role. He said so matter of factly, and ultimately credited his sister for seeing his potential and choosing him for his success, more than his own efforts and abilities. Stiles could hear some satisfaction in his voice, but he also detected a sort of resigned acceptance. Thinking about it, he came to understand it: since Derek was cleaved, he would never share his life with anyone, would never have children. Without another focus, being Laura’s Left Hand would come define him. His path was all too clear. 

Stiles wondered what Derek had wanted to do as a child, what he thought he might have become had it not been for his sister’s choice. Derek surprised him by admitting he had never even contemplated an alternative.

“We always knew Laura would be our Alpha, even when we were small,” he explained. “In our favorite game, she was Queen Laura the beloved, Michael was Sir Hug-a-lot the most powerful, first knight of the realm, and I was always her Left Hand, Prince Surly the Churlish of the Hales. Samuel was Smily Sam the Jester. Somehow, Smily was also responsible for the armory. He whittled us swords, and knives, bows and arrows. Samuel will be Laura’s second, when the time comes.”

“Not Michael?”

“Nah. Michael is much too complacent. He is happy where he is, doing what he does. Training the pack is a huge responsibility, but he was made for it. Samuel is a lot of fun, but he is also a great organizer, good at long term planning.”

Stiles was curious to meet the fourth of the Hales’ next generation. “Does Samuel look like the three of you too?” he asked.

“No. He takes after our mother’s side of the family, like Claudia does. He is leaner, his hair is straight and black, and he has light blue eyes, kind of like a younger Peter.”

Still, even accounting for those conversations, human Derek did not speak a lot more than his wolf counterpart, but since it was the only time he got to spend with the Hale alpha one on one, Stiles treasured those morning runs, and he never shared with others the small details he learned about his bodyguard. 

As Derek had predicted, the novelty of having a huge black wolf follow Stiles around had rapidly worn out, and even Stiles forgot the wolf was with him half the time. For being so massive, he knew how to stay out of the way, and his friends, as a group, had also been busy making Liam feel at home. 

He was a really sweet kid, and it turned out he had showed up at the Hales, send there by his mom, his Alpha, to save him from probable extermination, because his pack was badly loosing a territorial dispute. His mother’s pack was small and remote but had apparently once been somehow allied to the Hales. Liam was not sure how, or through what pact, he just knew his Alpha had given him a GPS and compelled him to run, edging other pack’s territory, until he hit the Hale’s.

He was from south western Colorado and had run twenty two days straight, his scent hidden by coyote musk, sleeping in trees and under bushes, eating rabbits and squirrels. He’d arrived exhausted, but in better shape one would have thought, after such a harrowing trek. Talia had asked the Reyes to take him in, and Peter was researching his pack, but Colorado was not in the Western alliance, and many small packs were off the grid.

Stiles snapped out of his thoughts when Lydia put her calculator down with a satisfied smile. “Just as I thought,” she said.

“What?” asked Allison.

“What have you been working on?” asked Jackson, turning the pages covered with her tight, elegant handwriting towards him. Looking puzzled, he passed them to Danny, who after a quick look passed them back to her with a helpless shrug.

“I was going over my notes on what we have learned about omega pairing, thinking I should try and publish them in “Applied Creative Statistical analysis” and something occurred to me. I checked what little we know of other omegas, and formed a hypothesis, which I have just proven.”

She capped her Mont Blanc gold pen, and put it on top of her work. “Doesn’t it seem strange, to all of you, that everyone of us sorted as mated alphas? Even those who were _on the fence_ so to speak, like Erica Reyes?”

“Uh, that’s is a bit weird,” said Allison to Stiles. “All your close friends are mated alphas, all of us the best able to protect you as you look for your mate.” She turned to Lydia. “But in my case, at least, it's a coincidence. I sorted months before I ever met Stiles.”

“True, but still, _"One is an accident, two is a coincidence, but three is a pattern,"_ according to our Alpha,” said Scott. “Chances of anyone sorting as alphas are what? One in eight or ten? And then less than half of alphas are mated, and yet, Boyd, Erica, Jackson, Lydia, Danny and I, that’s six for six of Stiles friends.” 

“Yeah, but it’s not as if all of us were friends with Stiles before this year,” admitted Jackson.

Jackson could still be a douche, but the fact that he didn’t deny their friendship now pleased Stiles much more than he would have thought.

“I took that into account. There are a lot of people Stiles had just as much contact if not more than with us in years past. So I looked at what the seven of us had in common. We’ve been in the same schools since kindergarten, and all through primary school, but we were not all in the same classes, and some people who were in Stiles' class then, like Isaac Lahey and Heather Phelps are not mated Alphas. As Jackson has already pointed out, we were no closer to Stiles in the first two years of high school than many others."

She smiled." _However,_ we were all in the same class in _middle school_. There were ten of us. Can you guys remember who the other three were?”

“Boyd’s cousin Terry, Cora Hale, and that guy that moved away, Mason something or other,” Stiles provided.

“Mason Hewett,” said Danny. “His father was a widower, a beta in the Tate pack, which was his dead wife’s pack. He worked for Whittemore, and he met a woman from Chicago township at a scientific meeting. They moved to Chicago when he married her.”

“Great, thanks. I couldn’t even remember his name, and I thought I was going to have to research his whereabouts,” said Lydia. "Terrence Boyd is a mated alpha, right? And we all know that Cora Hale will be one. If that Mason person is a mated alpha as well, it will cinch it. But even using just the six of us, the probability that we should all have sorted as mated alphas by chance alone is of one in five thousand. Our high school graduating year has almost twice the number of mated alphas of an average class, eleven instead of six. Boyd, Erica, Danny, Scott and myself could just as likely been betas. Interesting, right?”

Danny excused himself. “Sorry, go on, I’ll be right back.” By now, they all knew where the bathroom was so the conversation just went on.

Lydia looked at Stiles. “I believe that between the age of a hundred and twenty, and a hundred and eighty moons, your future status as an omega influenced your peer group and resulted in all of us sorting the way we did. My guess would be through your pheromones, but there is no way to know.”

“That’s pretty far fetched, no?” said Stiles. “One in five thousand is not that small. People do win the lottery with odds a lot worse than that.”

“Yeah, right,” answered Lydia, rolling her eyes. “Add Cora and Terrence, and it’s one in seven thousand. Besides, there are a lot more variables included in my calculations. I've reduced it to the actual sorting for the sake of clarity. Trust me Stiles. It shouldn’t have happened.”

Danny came back, grinning. He sat down and said, “I just called Alice Tate, Mason’s grandmother? Mason and I were pretty good friends before he moved away, and she remembered me. I was going to ask her how he Sorted, or get his phone number from her, but I didn’t have time.” He chuckled. “She said,” and he switched to a high-pitched voice, “Daniel Mahealani? Ho! Hello! It’s so nice Mason’s friends remember him! I assume you are calling about his Sorting? He’ll be so glad to have you there! He gets in on Monday, with his father and stepmother. The full moon is ridiculously early, so we’re having a big buffet breakfast before the run on Tuesday. You are more than welcome to join us! Do you think any of his other old school friends would like to come?” 

He added, “You could never get a word in edgewise with that woman. Evidently, his Sorting moon is the strawberry moon, and he wanted to run with his mother’s pack for the occasion. I really missed him after he left. If it’s all right with our Alpha, I’m definitely going.”

“I’m sure Dad won’t mind,” said Jackson. He turned to Lydia. “I assume you want to go too, and prove that you are right?”

“Duh. Of course I want to go." She frowned. "Do any of you remember his SASSH?”

“Eleven at the beginning of middle school,” said Danny. “But we all gain a couple of points before we’re tested in freshman year, so my guess would be that it’s about thirteen now.”

“If he sorts an alpha with a SASSH of thirteen, I admit that it will go a long way to validating your theory,” said Stiles. “But why would my pheromones act on the people I knew then, and not, say, act on those I was close to in the years right before my Sorting?”

“My guess is that by influencing the future Sorting of only your younger cohort, it gives a chance to those in your peer group in the years closer to your Sorting to become possible mates for you, while those you knew before, _us_ , rally around you, probably again influenced by pheromones. Don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad we became friends, but why should all the people you went to middle school with suddenly decide to hang out with you again? Before this year, could you have ever imagined being friends with Jackson?”

“No. Not in a million years,” admitted Stiles. Before the thoughts that were forming in the back of his head had time to congeal, Danny was leaning towards him, and grabbing his hand, as if he knew where Stiles’ mind was going.

“Stiles, even if Lydia’s right, I may have come for the pheromones, but I stayed for you. You’re smart, and funny, and generous and loyal. I am so glad we are friends now. Don’t go reading anything stupid into this.”

“You’re the only person I know as insatiable for knowledge as I am, and you make me smile,” said Lydia. She leaned over and gave Stiles a peck on the cheek. “Same for me, Stiles. I don’t care if it was pheromones that made me open to the idea of befriending the biggest nerd in our school. I wouldn’t give you up for anything.”

Stiles was a both incredibly grateful and completely embarrassed by the outpouring of affection, so he was relieved when Scott, probably sensing that he would appreciate a change of topic, asked, “Why do you think Mason wanted to come back for his sorting moon? Does he want to come back to his grand-mother’s pack?”

“Maybe Chicago township never felt like home to him and he wants to come back to Beacon Hills,” said Allison. “Believe me, it can be hard to make friends in a new school when the other students have known each other since toddlerhood. I was not looking forward to coming here and having to start from scratch again.”

“Yeah, me neither,” agreed Liam.

Allison added, “This was the first time I felt really welcome in a new place. You guys were all so nice.” She giggled, blushing a little. “Of course, I could tell that the first person to talk to me was my mate. That helped.”

Scott looked at her with eyes full of love, and caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. His gesture was so gentle and loving, none of them could help smiling. Jackson reached for Lydia’s hand, and she held his tightly, their love a tangible thing.

“If your omega pheromones made it possible for Lydia to be my mate,” Jackson told Stiles earnestly, “I owe you for everything beautiful and good in my life.” He added, seriously, “I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you find your own mate.”

“Wow. Thank you, Jackson,” answered Stiles, surprised and truly touched.

Jackson smirked and hurried to dispel the moment. “Hopefully, he or she won’t be as big a dork as you and I’ll have someone decent to talk to, since I’m stuck spending time with you now that my mate has decided you were worth her time.”

Stiles cracked up, and Danny followed. Heaven forbid Jackson should ruin his reputation by showing he had a heart. Soon they were all laughing, and the emotionally charged moment passed.

That night, Stiles went to bed thinking how lucky he was that he too would soon have a mate. He couldn’t wait to start meeting the most likely candidates. The solstice, when school would be over, would come eight days after the strawberry moon, and graduation would be three days after that, Saturday the twenty-fourth of June. He and Derek had agreed to get started with visiting eligible alphas that next Monday.

Time had just flown by. Within the next ten months, he should meet the person who would inspire in him the same feelings and passion he witnessed everyday between his mated friends. He tried to picture in his head the attributes he would consider important and therefor expect to find in a mate, what they would lok like, the kind of person they might be, but just couldn’t. 

He blamed his friends for setting his standard ridiculously high. They were all so gorgeous. He would be thrilled to have a mate who looked as perfect as Jackson or Lydia, as beautiful as Boyd, his sister and his cousins or as cute and charming as Allison, Liam or Danny.

He loved Lydia’s intelligence, Danny’s sense of humor, the dichotomy of Allison’s sweetness and her bad-assery, Boyd quiet strength and his loyalty, Erica's boisterousness, and Scott’s loving kindness. How was his mate to surpass any of them?

He had stayed up much too long thinking about his future mate, and must have failed to hear his alarm in the morning. He woke up with Derek shaking his shoulder gently. Derek was only wearing his cut off sweats, his tank top still in his hand.

“Are we going running or are you too tired? You were tossing and turning half the night,” he said.

Stiles stretched as Derek went to look outside the window. “It’s going to be hot today,” Derek mentioned. His smooth skin was lit by the rising sun, showing off his beautifully sculpted torso. His pause accentuated the definition of his muscular back and thighs, his tattoo a perfect complement to his broad shoulders. 

He turned back toward Stiles. “So?”

Stiles checked his phone. “Dude! It’s only five AM! Are you trying to kill me?”

“Really?” Derek came to his side to check for himself. “Crap! Sorry, I thought it was half past. Go back to sleep.”

“No point in trying to,” Stiles griped. “By the time I do, my alarm will go off.” He pushed himself up and sat against his headboard, gesturing for Derek to sit down as well. 

“What kept you up so late last night?” asked Derek.

“I was trying to imagine what my mate might be like, and how I would figure out who it is,” Stiles admitted.

Derek smiled. Heavens, he was gorgeous when he smiled. “Oh, you’ll know. It will be the most attractive person you’ve ever seen,” said the most attractive person Stiles had ever seen, “And their most innocent touch,” Derek placed his hand on Stiles forearm, “will be electrifying.” Sparks of pleasure erupted in his skin at Derek’s touch, making Stiles shiver. “And they will smell like heaven,” Derek continued, leaning to take a deep breath along Stiles neck, bringing his own warm and fragrant skin close enough for Stiles to take in his amazing scent.

Stiles moved towards Derek tempting presence, and woke up as he almost fell off the bed. His top sheet was seriously tented, and he felt out of breath, his heart thumping in his chest. He lay back down, letting his body calm. When he checked the time, it was actually only half past midnight. He must have just fallen asleep.

Wolf Derek was sprawled on his side in a square of moonlight underneath the window. He raised his head, his pointy ears perked up. Their eyes met, and Stiles closed his reflexively, as if Derek might otherwise see what his dream had been.

The sooner they started meeting alphas, the better. Derek was _cleaved_ , for fuck’s sake. Stiles’ attraction to him was irrelevant, and developing a crush on him would be pointless and pretty idiotic. Calling his dream a stupid jerk, Stiles turned over and forced himself to recite the periodic table of elements to shut out any unwelcomed thoughts. He ended up falling asleep and dreaming of Harris giving him detention, and how fair was that?


	22. Strawberry moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this was not betaed!

Even though the strawberry moon was on Tuesday morning, Stiles and Derek went to Hale House on Sunday. The sheriff had a long shift that day and felt better, this close to the moon, knowing his son was with the Hales. It had also been decided that once again, Stiles would miss a couple days of school to spare his non-mated alpha schoolmates.

He didn’t mind; it gave him more time to review for his last exams. He and Lydia were still head to head in grades, and even though he was not interested in being the valedictorian, he wanted the personal satisfaction of knowing he could have been. When he went down to dinner on Sunday night, the huge dining room was only half full. Apparently, the families with kids all had dinner in their individual apartments within the Hale house.

Stiles was feeling a bit out of place before Gin and Ella waved him over. He grinned, relieved. It was nice to see faces he knew.

“Stiles! How are you?” asked Ella warmly. “Oh! Here’s my brother! He’s been wanting to meet you.” she added, and called out, “Clyde!” A tall man with Peter’s blue eyes came to join them. He was holding hands with Clara.

“You must be Stiles,” the tall man said affably. “Last time I saw you, you were just a little tyke. You sure look a lot like your mom at your age. She use to babysit for us kids before she got married.”

“She would make up the best stories,” recalled Ella with a smile.

“Yeah, she did,” said Stiles, happy to have people to reminiscing about his mom with. “She was an amazing storyteller. I wish she’d written some of them down. She never told the same one twice.”

After that, the conversation flowed easily. Two other guys in their early twenties joined their table as well. Their names were Steve and David, and they worked construction with Clyde. They tried to explain how they were related, to each other, to Clyde and Ella, and finally to the Alpha, but they all gave up, laughing, getting mixed up figuring if they were second or third cousins and how many times removed.

David just shrugged, and said: “Heck. We’re Hales. That’s all that matters.”

A large salad and a huge pan of lasagna was delivered to the table by an older woman pushing a trolley, and she came back later with yoghurts and fruits.

Stiles wondered where Derek was. He had not seen him since they’d arrived at Hale house, and it felt weirdly unsettling. He’d gotten used to his constant presence. Gin must have noticed him looking around because he explained, “Samuel came home from university today. The Alpha’s family is having a celebratory dinner. They’re glad to have Derek back too; they missed him this month, especially Clo and Rumi. They love their big brother.”

Stiles hadn’t thought of that. Of course they would miss Derek. Why shouldn’t they? Stiles had not even given any thought to Derek missing his pack, missing his little siblings. He hoped he hadn’t, well, at least not too much. Stiles was suddenly worried that perhaps, next month, it would be Michael or Samuel who would protect him, instead of Derek. Derek had spoken of their coming road trips, but what if he changed his mind? What if he was tired of sleeping on Stiles floor? What if he wanted time with his family?

Then again, Stiles had had several more dreams about Derek, all quite passionate, resulting in gross, sticky sleep pants. It was as if his subconscious was stuck on his bodyguard. The hardest Stiles worked at repressing his growing attraction to him, the more vivid and pornographic the dreams became.

So perhaps it would be best if someone else took over for Derek? It might be good to nip Stiles’ ridiculous crush in the bud. It was the last thing he needed. Yes, it might, but the thought of not sharing his morning runs with Derek, or of not having the comforting company of the huge black wolf with Derek’s eyes at every moment was almost too disconcerting to consider. Yet Derek wasn’t even pack. Stiles should not get too attached. But was he getting attached to Derek, or to the feeling of safety he felt in his presence? Maybe that’s all it was. Of course it was. 

Once he found his mate, once he was loved and safe, his reliance on Derek would settle into friendship. Close friendship, because of what they had shared. Because he liked Derek, now that he knew him better. Derek was really great. He wouldn’t want them to grow apart. No matter what else happened in his life, he knew he wanted Derek to be a part of it.

He didn’t want to be without Derek’s sudden, there and gone smiles. His deadpan humor. The way that he seemed to genuinely like Stiles, unrelated to his omega status or Stiles’ history with the Hales. His eyes, so mesmerizing, so attentive. The light soothing touches that seemed to anchor Stiles. The physical affection the wolf was never shy of expressing. His soft luxuriant fur. The manly scent of his sweat after their run. 

Stiles shook himself lightly, annoyed at himself for not being able to channel his affection for his bodyguard to its proper place, without feeling some unhealthy, inappropriate attraction. It was just as unsuitable to feel that way for someone who was _cleaved_ , as _unbecoming_ as it would be to think that way about… about Scott! Why could he love Scott as much as he did and not get all moony over him, but not like Derek without it always kind of feeling like something more, something impossible? Derek should feel just as out of bonds as Scott.

Stiles forced himself out of his thoughts and back to the present, back to the pleasant conversation around him. 

At the end of the meal, everyone scrapped their plates into the empty salad bowl, and all the dirty dishes were stacked at one end of the table for easy pick up by the trolley lady. While Steven cleaned up the tabletop, Clyde went to get some cards and board games. They asked Stiles if he was up for a Scrabble game, or maybe Pictionary, but he decline, using his upcoming finals as an excuse to go back to the Stilinski suite, feeling confused and aggrieved. 

Once back in his room, he regretted not taking them on their offer, unsure of why he hadn’t. He dismissed the previous internal debate as some momentary silliness, because that’s all it was, but still felt restless and on edge, for no reason he could think of. Well, he had told them he would study, so he might as well. He started to write his last paper for English lit, and thankfully, he lost himself in his work.

He only decided to quit after he fell asleep typing for the second time, erasing the two pages of Ks that had resulted and saving his work. He brushed his teeth and changed for bed.

Lying down in the dark, he felt wolf-Derek’s absence acutely. He had gotten used to his quiet presence, to his occasional sighs. He tossed and turned, pushed away the comforter, got up again for a huge glass of water, punched his pillow, tossed and turned some more, inevitably had to get up again to pee, opened the window, put the comforter back on, took off his shirt and was wondering if he would ever get to sleep when he finally did.

He had forgotten to turn his alarm off, so he was up at his normal time and just lazing about, wondering if he should go on his usual run alone or if breakfast was being served in the dining room that early in the morning. There was a knock on the door. He opened it to find Derek, ready for their run, and raising a questioning eyebrow at his bare chest and sleep pants.

“Give me a sec!” Stiles said happily, running back to his room to get ready. He was humming cheerfully as he threw on his running clothes, and gave Derek a huge grin when he rejoined him at the door, grabbing and putting on his shoes.

“You’re in a good mood, this morning,” Derek remarked.

“I wasn’t looking forward to running alone. I’m glad you came. I…” He almost added “missed you” but cut himself off. First of all, he’d just seen Derek the afternoon before, and second, Derek was his bodyguard, not… not someone he should miss. “…’m ready!” he said instead.

They definitely were not the only members of the pack going for a run, and every time they met others in the woods, it was obvious that the Hales took fitness very seriously. These people were _not_ casual joggers. They crossed paths with a group of kids, which included both Nora and Pip, who were doing some kind of fitness circuit under the guidance of a couple of adults. Both kids waved at them, but did not slow down. Stiles was reminded how young the Hale children started training to defend the township.

He asked Derek about it. Apparently, through the years, and depending in one’s abilities, the training included self-defense, hand-to-hand combat military style, Tae kwon do, as well as target practice with guns and bows and arrows. “We also do strength training, work on reflexes, like catching arrows in mid-air, and stamina. That’s where running comes in.” He hesitated, then added, “there is also some special training, depending on what is needed and depending on an individual gifts”.

It was clear that Stiles would not get more out of him on that subject, so he let it go, asking him instead what part of it he liked best. Derek and Michael really enjoyed martial arts. In addition to being black belts in Tae Kwon Do, they had also studied Krav maga and K1. Then Derek had to describe the differences between K1, Kickboxing and Savate, and explain what Brancaille was, and time went fast. 

As the Hale house came back into view, Derek and Stiles met with a running trio: Laura, Michael, and a man who looked like a younger, more lithe version of Peter, whom he assumed was Samuel. They were sweaty, but laughing and goofing off.

“Hey, guys!” said Laura. “Good run?”

“Yeah, Thanks!” said Stiles. He turned to the newcomer. “Eh, you’re Samuel, right?”

“Yep! And I saw your speech on TV, so I know who you are. You were great, by the way. All my non-mated alpha friends waited up together ‘till your site came on line and filled the questionnaire right away, even a couple of guys who are not even gay.” He laughed. “They all thought you were _“adorable”_.”

Laura cracked up when Stiles groaned. “Thanks a lot,” he said. “And here I thought I came across as suave and debonair.”

“Oh, my bad! ” Samuel rectified. “That’s what they said, of course, suave and debonair. Just, you know, adorably so.” 

The five of them made their way into the house, laughing. On the way to the dining room, Stiles lagged a bit and Derek looked at him questioningly. “You didn’t have to miss the run with your siblings on my account, Derek,” he whispered.

“I didn’t,” answered Derek carelessly, starting again towards the others. 

Stiles stopped him again and looked at him doubtfully. “Are you trying to tell me that you would not have joined them if it weren’t for me?”

“No,” he looked at Stiles and shrugged lightly, “Just that I still could have: they said you could join us.”

Stiles realized that Derek had not wanted to include Stiles into his close relationship with his siblings. Though he understood, it still hurt a little. It must have shown on his face, because Derek added, frowning, “I was selfish. I’m sorry.”

Stiles immediately felt guilty. “Dude, no! Really. You don’t have to share your siblings with me! I understand!”

Derek’s frown deepened. “What? No!” He whispered vehemently. “I spent all evening with my family, and half the night with my siblings.” He stopped, then added more softly, “I like our runs, it’s the only time when we’re alone, when we can talk. _That’s_ what I didn’t want to share.”

“Oh.” Their eyes met, and Stiles could not help but smile at him as he admitted, “I like our runs too.”

Derek’s luminous smile lasted long enough for Stiles to feel the need to break their eye contact and he could still hear it in Derek’s voice when Derek asked “Food?”

Stiles laughed. “Oh, yeah! All the food!”

“Good,” said Derek, “Come on.” They caught up with the others in the breakfast line, and they all sat together.

“When is Tim getting in?” Samuel asked Laura.

Laura’s eyes glowed red for a second before she answered, her smile irrepressible, “In two hours.”

“And he’s not going back out!” said Michael grinning, pulling his sister in a side hug. She laughed, looking really happy.

“Tim is my mate,” Laura explained, for Stiles’ benefit. “He is an ethnologist. He studies the geographical and cultural influences on the full alpha shift. He has been away for months at a time these past two years, collecting data for his thesis.”

“Where was he, this time?” asked Samuel.

“The Amazon. There are hundreds of different tribes, with completely different cultures, and they shift into several different canids. Manned wolves, hoary zorros, pampas zorros, and even short eared dogs. Most of these actual animals are wolf cousins, but, unlike wolves, they are not pack creatures, and yet, the werecanids of the Amazon all are, their packs structure identical to ours. It’s fascinating.”

“Oh, yeah… So exciting,” said Michael faking a yawn. Laura laughed and hit his shoulder playfully.

“Will he be able to explain why Pip is an Arctic wolf, or why Gin turns into an Hokkaido wolf, even though this actual wolf subspecies is extinct?” asked Samuel.

“I guess you’ll have to ask him that yourself,” said Laura, shrugging. She grinned at her brothers. “He’s been training in Brazilian Ju jitsu. He said he’s going to kick your ass next time you spar.”

Michael laughed. “Oh, yeah. That’s likely. I’m going to make him eat those words!”

“We’ve always have had the advantage of our larger body size over him,” Derek reminded him. “If he has become really proficient in Ju jitsu, watch out, he just might kick our ass.”

“Pfft!” Michael commented, sure of himself.

“Regardless, I’m looking forward to learning whatever techniques he’s bringing back,” added Derek.

“Well, it won’t be for a while.” Laura blushed a little. “Mom gave us some time off. After Cora’s Sorting, we will be going to the White Elder cabin.”

Her three brothers smiled at her, Michael giving her another side hug while Samuel reached for her hand. 

“That’s good Laura. Really great,” said Derek, smiling at her.

“You guys cross your fingers, yeah?” said Laura, chuckling.

“You got it, sis.”

Laura had not seen her mate in a long time. She must not have had a heat in a while, and apparently thought she would enter one when exposed to his pheromones again. With a little luck she might become pregnant. She would obviously welcome that outcome, as would her brothers.

When they returned their trays after they finished breakfast, they were each handed a bagged lunch, because on most days, only breakfast and dinner were served in the dining room. They all dispersed to get showered and go on with their day. Stiles went back to his rooms and his homework. He had enough of it to keep him busy until his pack arrived that evening, in preparation for the strawberry moon run the next morning.

Stiles worked diligently all morning, and then got sucked in by the Internet. He had been intrigued by the conversation the night before regarding the alpha shifts of weres where the dominant canids were not wolves. He had never before thought about it, and was thrilled to read about werehyenas, weredingoes and so on. He was looking forward to meeting Tim, and hoped he would have a chance to read his thesis.

He was pulled out of the Wikipedia quick sand by a knock on the door, and realized it was getting close to dinnertime, and he had not even eaten lunch yet. He almost brained himself in the open window of his bedroom in the process of rushing to answer.

Derek was at the door, looking really nice in a dark green T-shirt, for once tucked in his perfectly fitted jeans.

“Oh! Hey,” said stiles, rubbing the painful bump on his head. “Uh, hi!” Apparently, he was trying to use all his vowels sounds today.

Derek let his eyebrows comment on that and asked, “Your pack’s not coming until after dinner, right?”

“Right. You’re eating with the pack tonight?” Stiles was hoping to eat in his company.

“You’ve been cooped up all day. I thought we could go for a walk, have some food in the woods?”

Stiles wondered if he had had a bit too much family time and wanted to get away a little. Then, he pictured wolf Derek with a dead rabbit in his jaws and verified, “by food in the woods, you don’t mean wildlife, do you? Cute squirrels or adorable bunnies?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You’ve seen me as a wolf. Do you really think bunnies can sustain me? I need a boar or a buck.”

Oh, dear. (Ha, ha, brain.) He pictured Derek slicing a chunk off the rump of a newly dead buck with his claw and offering it to him. Raw. Still warm. Still _bleeding_ …

Derek cracked up. “Stiles, you’re an idiot.” He turned slightly to show the backpack on his shoulder. “I got turkey sandwiches, Doritos, lemon poppy seed muffins, and a pound bag of m&m’s. Comin’?” He started to walk away.

“You are such a jerk,” said Stiles grinning, putting on his converse. He jogged to catch up with him. Derek did not take the main staircase, but made his way down the corridor, then through a maze of hallways and passageways lined with doors, and finally down a narrow staircase to a side entrance that opened close to the forest. They walked companionably through the trees, Stiles enjoying the fresh air and the quiet of the woods.

After a while, they stopped under a huge oak, which must have been hundreds of years old. The moss on the ground was thick and soft. They sat down and Derek used one of the trees’ huge roots as a table to put out their food. He handed Stiles some ice water in the lid of a thermos. 

“There are myths about a time when humans were alone in the world, and able to channel the magic inherent in the land. This is supposed to have been one of the sacred places called Nemeta, for the most powerful amongst them, the Druids. Multiple ley lines cross under this tree. It’s tradition for our mated pairs to carve their initials in the wood.” 

Indeed, as he looked more closely, Stiles could see hundreds of carved pairs of initials, not just on the trunk, but on all the branches. He put both his hands flat on the root, leaned on the trunk and closed his eyes. After a while, he felt the same tingle in his palms as he did when he handled mountain ash. He could feel a deep sense of peace, of timeless connection between the land, the majestic tree and the pack whose members immortalized their sacred bond in its wood. 

He became aware of the ley lines as they glowed and pulsed, converging towards the deep roots and the heart of the mighty oak, sensed the tree’s everlasting benevolence for the pack, and saw himself as a glowing dew drop in a complex golden web of events extending from the nebulous past to a far reaching future, set against a starlit sky, shimmering in the light of the full moon.

“Stiles?” Derek’s voice seemed far away. “Did you just doze off?”

Oh. Stiles opened his eyes, embarrassed. He’d not been having some mystical communication with the Nemeton. He’d just fallen asleep on Derek, when the werewolf had gone to the trouble of making them a picnic and showing him yet another place that was special to him and his pack.

“Sorry, Derek. It’s so peaceful here, I just…”

“Don’t worry about it. You were only asleep for a moment. I only noticed because you were so uncharacteristically quiet,” Derek teased. 

“Haha. Funny.” 

“You do look a little tired. Did you sleep all right last night?” asked Derek. 

Stiles shrugged, and then decided there was nothing wrong with admitting the truth. “I got used to your wolf snuffling and, you know, being there. It was too quiet in my room.”

Derek nodded. “Yeah. I know. I panicked in the middle of the night when I woke up and couldn’t hear your heartbeat.”

“Well, you live with us!” said Stiles, excitedly. “I know your mom won’t let anyone from your pack in our suite so my dad feels comfortable here, but he’s used to you. Maybe she could make an exception and you could...”

Derek looked up, “Stiles,” he said, effectively cutting him off. “I sleep in your room to _protect_ you. You _don’t need_ protection here.”

Even though the reminder had been matter of fact, Stiles couldn’t help but feel stupid. Derek might have listened for his heartbeat for a few seconds last night, before remembering where he was. It didn’t mean he _missed_ it. It didn’t mean the poor guy wanted to sleep on Stiles’ floor when he didn’t have to.

Derek went on. “Your pack will be here tonight. I’m sure that even with the soundproofing, you won’t feel so alone.”

Stiles realized he hadn’t even thought of that. Aside from the summer before his sorting, he’d never slept away from his pack, and that summer, he’d shared a room with Scott. _That_ was more likely the cause of his unsettled feelings last night than the absence of the wolf. Obviously, sheesh.

Stiles decided to change the subject.

“Hey, so, it’s Cora’s Sorting tomorrow!”

Derek nodded. “Yes. I can’t believe she’s that old already.” He chewed a bite of his sandwich. “It’s nice Samuel could take his finals early and come home. It is good for the whole family to be together for our Sortings.”

Riiight. Because Cora’s was the _fifth_ Sorting for the Alpha’s family. Eight kids! Stiles crammed a bunch of Doritos in his mouth to prevent himself from going on another rant about it. He suddenly remembered his conversation with Scott and Allison the previous moon, and helped himself swallow by taking a drink of his water. 

“Yeah, about that,” he said. “We don’t want to crash her Sorting just because of me having to be here for the full moon. We can stay in, tomorrow, give your pack some privacy.”

Derek snorted. “That’s ridiculous! The inner circle will be just our family and Cora’s guests, but the whole pack will be there. Of course you’re welcome to join us. Most of us will continue the run after she is Sorted. We have the whole day to play. Besides, truthfully, it’s not that big a deal when we all know she will be a mated alpha.” 

Hm. Cora had invited guests to her sorting. Of course she had. Stiles had invited the Boyds and the Reyes to his. And Stiles was sure the Hales had already thought about and dealt with the fact that some of her guests might be non-mated alphas. Obviously, right? And even if a non-mated alpha were to try and attack him, he would be completely safe. His Alpha would be here, and Scott. Derek would protect him, too. And all the Hales. So, no problems there. None whatsoever. 

Derek put his hand on Stiles arm, calming his runaway thoughts. He said, “Cora invited the Boyds, but Jude Boyd will be running with the Reyes pack tomorrow. He will be with his cousin Vernon and with Liam. The Boyds and the Reyes pack run together a lot. Jude’ll be fine. She invited the Laheys as well. The Lahey Alpha, Camden, has a mate, and the rest of his pack are all betas. You have nothing to worry about.”

Stiles shrugged. “Pfft. I wasn’t worried!”

Derek’s eyebrows called his bluff.

“Not _worried_ worried. Mildly concerned, at most. Nah, not even. Just, you know, thinking. Stupid, really.” Stiles looked down at the vividly green moss, caressing its springy surface with his palm.

“Hey,” said Derek. He was quiet until Stiles looked up and met his eyes, noticing that all the colors of the forest were present in his irises. “You have been accosted, harassed, attacked and almost kidnapped since your sorting. You have every right to _think_.”

“It’s embarrassing. I know I’m perfectly safe here, I know it. It’s just stress induced paranoia, I guess.”

“It’s not paranoia. Not when there are people actually after you. But yes, you are safe, here. In the Hale territory, you can relax.”

Stiles grinned at Derek. “Besides, I have you to protect me.”

“I would protect you with my life,” Derek assured him soberly.

Stiles sort of knew this, but still, it was weird to hear Derek admit it. And it was wrong, really. Stiles’ ridiculous personality was not more precious than Derek’s life.

“Derek, that’s not…”

Derek interrupted him. “It’s my duty, my Alpha’s orders. But the truth is, I could not live with the knowledge that I failed to protect you, because if the person you are today were to disappear, it would leave a hole impossible to fill in the heart of many.”

What about in yours? Stiles mentally slapped himself for even thinking about asking. Derek had not made any secret of the fact that he valued Stiles friendship and enjoyed his company. But Derek was incapable of the kind of feelings Stiles ached for. His heart was sealed forever. He was cleaved. His ability for romantic love, his sexual drive had died and been buried along with his mate.

Wishing, even on a subconscious level, that it could be otherwise was insulting to Derek, as if without these abilities he was less than whole, less of a person. Stiles wanted to care for Derek as he was, wanted to honor who Derek was by giving him the kind of affection he could appreciate and return, without ever being made to feel he was less than perfect as he was.

So Stiles knocked his crush unconscious, pushed it into a deep dungeon in some deep recess of his mind, closed a thick door over it, locked it and threw away the imaginary key with his next exhale, for it to be irretrievably lost amongst the moss and fallen leaves of the forest floor. 

“Thank you, Derek,” Stiles said honestly. Then he grinned and added playfully, “Impossible to fill? An exaggeration, I think. I mean, I’m cute and adorable, so they could always fill the void by adopting a kitten.”

Derek’s eye roll gave away his thoughts at Stiles self-description as cute and adorable. “I hate to say it,” he joked, “but I think a budgie would be a better replacement. Messy and annoyingly talkative? Or maybe one of those yappy hyperactive little dogs?”

“Rude!” cried Stiles, “There are times when brutal honesty is not necessary, you know. Couldn’t you leave me with my delusions?” He cracked up. “My place in people’s heart could easily be filled by a Jack Russel terrier. That’s humbling.”

Derek stared at him thoughtfully, then started eating again. 

“What?” asked Stiles.

“Nothing.”

“Come on. What were you thinking?” Stiles insisted.

Derek shrugged. “Just that a Jack Russel would be a perfect shift for you if you weren’t human,” he said seriously.

Uh? A Jack Russel? A tiny bouncy _dog_ was what Derek saw as Stiles’ canid equivalent? That was… Oh, my god ! Just… Stiles opened his mouth several time to retort, but could find _nothing_ to say to express his total _outrage_ at such an utterly… 

Derek’s serious veneer cracked and he burst out laughing at Stiles’ irate expression. 

“You… You… ” stuttered Stiles, realizing Derek had been messing with him. Derek kept on laughing, bend over and halfway snorting. “I actually believed… You are a horrible friend,” Stiles concluded, throwing a handful of Doritos at him. “I don’t even know why I like you!”

“I’m sorry,” said Derek, catching his breath and drying his eyes. “That was uncalled for. But your face!” He chuckled again, but then reached out and touched Stiles forearm lightly. “Stiles, were you to shift, I have no doubt you would be a magnificent wolf. But you don’t shift, and that’s even better, because it is who you are, and I wouldn’t change a thing about you.” He added, his gaze and voice full of sincerity. “I am glad you think of us as friends, because we are, and as far as I’m concerned, we always will be.”

Stiles turned over his hand, so he could grasp Derek’s wrist as he smiled and said, “We will. I have no doubt,” and he was glad to mean it, glad to have resolved his ambiguous feelings toward Derek just in time to be able to say so completely without guile.

After that, it was as if some invisible barrier between them that neither had really been conscious of had fallen. They were comfortable with one another, teasing, talking, and arguing freely, showing their affection for one another as easily as Stiles had always done with Scott, with hugs, shoves and rough housing.

The next day, as they sat together at breakfast, it was easy for Stiles to ask, “Hey, after your sister’s Sorting, you’ll find me, right? So we can run together?”

Derek just shrugged and answered, “Of course! Who else would I run with? Can you take a small backpack? That way you can bring some snacks and water, and a pair of shorts for me, and we can spend the whole day out and not need to get back.”

That sounded perfect, so Stiles hurried back to his room before joining the others for the run. He grabbed a small backpack, emptied the bowl of snacks that lived on his shelf inside of it, dug Derek’s shorts out of his school bag and threw them in. He’d take a water bottle from the dining room on his way back down. He was smiling happily. He and Derek were friends. It was easy. It was awesome. It was, like, the best thing, ever.


	23. And baby makes three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, Stiles was at the Hales for the full moon again, and felt good about finally having sorted his feelings for Derek. They are friends. Good friends. Yeah, Stiles, keep telling yourself that...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again no beta, sorry.

When Stiles, Allison and Scott got to school the day after the strawberry moon, rumors were already flying. It was understandable: after all, two of their classmates had found their mates the day before. Stiles smiled, thinking back to the radiantly happy face of Cora Hale when she had said, “I have a mate and I have found her. Her name in Angelique Boyd”, and Angie had answered, her voice clear and sure, “Cora Hale is my mate.” 

Lydia had called him last night and regaled him with the similar scene that had taken place at Mason’s Sorting. As soon as Mason had shivered out of his communion with the full moon, Danny had all but vibrated with joy as he had realized Mason was his mate. After being recognized by his grandmother and accepted in her pack, Mason had announced his mate, his voice filled with thrilled disbelief. On the phone Lydia had laughed, describing how, after answering with the proper words, the usually unflappable Danny had almost tripped on his own feet in his rush to laughingly grab a hold of Mason, to lift and spin him around in the air, before kissing him rather enthusiastically, in total disregard for decorum.

Both couples were away, celebrating their mating in isolation. Cora and Danny would have to make up their final exams, though they were both good students, so their graduation was not in jeopardy. They would probably miss the ceremony, as well, but that was fine. Their names would be called, and they would get their diploma as soon as they passed their exams.

There was also plenty of gossip about Boyd and Erica, who had finally come out of isolation after the longest retreat on record for the Beacon Township. They had been away for a full lunar month and had missed an awful lot of classes. Would they sit for their exams anyway? Would they graduate with their class? Everyone had an opinion, as well as a comment about their long absence.

Most of the classes for the rest of the week would be spend reviewing for finals, giving the students a chance to ask their teachers last minute questions, and for the teacher to emphasize anything they considered of crucial import. 

At the end of the math class they shared, their teacher returned a sheath of papers to Lydia, confirming her calculations to be flawless, and congratulating her on her inquisitive mind.

“I had him go over my statistics for the article I want to publish about the effects of growing up with a future omega. Mason’s SASSH was a _twelve_ , Stiles! It is ridiculously rare for someone with a SASSH below thirteen to Sort as an alpha,” she grinned, “not quite, but _almost_ as rare as Sorting as an omega, and yet, he is a mated alpha, like everyone of your middle school classmates. You have been influencing those around you for years.”

“I’m pretty sure Melissa has always thought I was a bad influence on Scott,” joked Stiles.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t think any of us would consider being influenced to become mated alphas to be a negative thing, quite the contrary. Watching Danny and Mason reminded me how lucky we all are. Oh, by the way, I told Boyd we’d tutor him in calc. and physics and Jackson will be helping Reyes catch up in government, so we’ll be hanging out at your house pretty much all weekend, and then, Tuesday night, we’ll all be cramming for chemistry, so…”

“Do you guys even remember you’re _Whittemore_ pack? You have your own pack house, you know, which, by the way, is about ten times as luxurious as Stilinski house.”

Lydia raised her delicate shoulders in a careless shrug. “Your Alpha and Scott’s mom are really cool, and they’re hardly ever home. It’s nice that it’s just all of us, you know? All the other Alphas trust your dad, and they all know the Hales watch over your house, so they know we are safe and they never object when we meet at your place. We’re all comfortable there.”

“I know. I’m just kidding. I love it,” Stiles admitted. “Boyd missed a whole month. We have our work cut out for us.”

“Boyd is universally underestimated because he is big and muscular and doesn’t say much, but he is very fast on the uptake. We’ll manage,” answered Lydia dismissively as they entered their English class.

They each walked to their usual places, and Stiles scratched Derek between the shoulders lightly before the wolf lay down next to his seat, his snout on his paw, ready to nap. Stiles pressed his ankle against his furry side, and Derek’s tail waived lazily. Stiles got out his notebook and his colored pens, and paid attention to Mrs. Haggerty, listening for any hints she might let slip about the final.

At lunchtime, he took a detour by the Principal’s office before going to the cafeteria, hoping the man might have a minute. Principal Taylor came out of his office on his way to lunch just as Stiles was asking his secretary if he might be available. 

“Omega Stilinski? Can I help you with something?” he asked.

“Well, uh…”

“Come on in.” He turned to his secretary. “It’s all right, Hilda. Go on to lunch. I’m sure I can handle it from here.”

He closed his office door, and made his way back to his chair. “Oh, hello there, Mr. Hale, nice to see you again,” he said. He chuckled. “Derek Hale in my office. It _does_ bring back memories, doesn’t it?” 

Derek pulled back his lips, showing off his gleaming fangs. 

Mr. Taylor chuckled. “Is this the wolf’s version of that innocent smile you always tried to use on me? Because that never worked, and this would work even less, let me tell you.”

Derek huffed and lay down with a huge sigh. Mr. Taylor laughed again, and turned to Stiles. “So, omeg… Stiles. What brings you to my office?”

Stiles stopped chewing on his lip, took a deep breath and said, “Well, this is going to sound a bit presumptuous, probably, but I’m pretty sure Lydia Martin and I are neck to neck for valedictorian, right?”

“Indeed you two are. And unless recent events have been detrimental to your study habits, I am pretty sure the results of the finals will not change that any. Actually, your ability to keep your grades up through the stresses of the past two months has impressed the staff enough that all of them save one recommended you for the title if your GPAs remain equal after your finals.”

“Let me guess,” said Stiles. “All but Mr. Harris, right?” He grinned when the expression of surprise on the principal’s face all but confirmed it for him. He dismissed the whole thing with a shrug, and only offered, “He hates me,” as an explanation.

“Anyway,” Stiles went on, “that’s what I came to talk to you about. Yes, the past couple months have been no picnic, and I’m pretty smart, but the truth is, Lydia is _brilliant_. She really is. She sees the big picture, she asks the right questions, and often, she is already off finding solutions to problems that the rest of us are only beginning to realize might exist. Our grades don’t reflect that, because 100% is 100%, but while I may be sharp, she is a genius, and she deserves to be our class’ valedictorian. I thought about blowing off a couple of my finals to make sure she was, but my pride won’t let me. I want to keep my perfect GPA. So I figured I should talk to you about it.”

“You honestly feel she deserve the title more than you do?”

“Totally. She thought up and designed the questionnaire to help me find a mate. In her spare time, she has been doing research about the possible influence of early exposure to omega pheromones on future Sortings. She knows as much about omega history and chemistry as Mr. Deaton. She will be publishing paper using statistics that are far beyond the little of it we learned last year. Me? I’m just a really good student.”

“All right. As you know, the final decision rests with me. I’ll definitely consider what you said.”

Well, Stiles had been hoping for an absolute answer, but he would take what he could. He and Derek stood and made their way to the door. As he opened it, he had an image of himself, standing at the pulpit in front of his entire class, having to give some kind of a halfway intelligent talk with journalists hovering in the back and newspapers ready to write a “profound” analysis of his stupid speech. He turned back to the principal, who was also preparing to leave.

“Please, sir. Please. Don’t choose me. If not because she deserves it a million times more, then because I’m asking you as a favor not to give more reason for people to single me out, make up stuff about me and make our whole graduation about “the omega” instead of it being about all of us. Seriously, sir. I can’t handle it.” He was horrified to realize his voice was breaking.

Principal Taylor’s gaze was full of understanding. “Stiles, unless Lydia Martin takes it out of my hands by uncharacteristically having less than perfect scores on her finals, which we both know is highly unlikely, I promise you that she will be this year’s valedictorian. OK?”

Stiles took a deep breath and let it out, feeling as if a huge weight had been taken off his shoulders. “Thanks. Thank you, sir.”

Mr. Taylor re-opened the door and gently pushed him out. “Get out of here. I’m hungry.”

Stiles grinned. “Yes, sir. Sorry sir.” He and Derek took off jogging towards the cafeteria.

~o~

That evening, with eight students quietly murmuring and diligently studying, with many books and notes spread about, the large table in the Stilinski’s dining room looked like it belonged in a library.

Lydia had been right. Boyd was getting through the past month’s material quite easily, only asking a few questions before being able to work out most of the problems.

“Dude! I’m jealous! This stuff really comes easy to you,” remarked Stiles.

“Well,” said Boyd, and he looked towards Erica, who just gave him an encouraging smile. “Erica and I took our books with us when we went away.”

“You did?” “What?” “You’re joking, right?” “No way, really?”

Apparently, the idea seemed ludicrous to the members of the other mated pairs at the table.

“Come on, guys,” said Boyd, a bit defensively. “You know how it goes. It’s not all… You know. I mean, we do take breaks!”

“Of course,” agreed Allison, reasonably. “Scott and I talked about ourselves, about how we grew up, about what we wanted in the future.”

Lydia smiled at Jackson. “We skinny dipped in the lake, picked names for our kids, talked about the changes Jackson wants to make to grow the pack stronger once he’s the Alpha.”

Erica nodded, and then admitted, “Boyd and I have known each other forever. I mean that literally. His mom and his aunt died when he was really little. His aunt was my dad’s sister, so my grandparents watched Angelique, Boyd, Jude and Terry when their fathers went to work, and we were basically raised together until we were all old enough for preschool. Boyd and I always knew we would be together, either married, or mates. We picked names for our kids when we were ten. We share all the same experiences, and we’ve talked a million times about our future. So, between, uh, celebrations of our mating, we did homework.” She cracked up and hid her face in her hands. “It makes us sound like such nerds!”

They all laughed, but Scott admitted, “In your case, it kind of make sense, I guess.”

“But guys!” Lydia whined, unable to contain her curiosity any longer. “You were gone for a _month_! A whole month!”

Again, Boyd and Erica looked at each other across the table in silent communication, and after she shrugged and grinned, Boyd cleared his throat and confided, “Well, after ten days, we were set to come back. We packed and cleaned and we were going to leave the next morning _but_. Erica went into heat in the middle of the night, and well, that was that.”

Both Allison and Lydia turned to Erica and immediately started asking her questions. “You did? How could you tell? What was it like?”

The guys were no better, quizzing Boyd. “Could you tell by her scent? Did you go into heat too? How did it feel?”

“Guys! Perhaps we could try to respect Erica and Boyd’s privacy?” suggested Stiles, though he too was horribly curious.

“Thanks, Stiles. You’re the best,” declared Erica. “But honestly? If the situation were reversed, I’d want to know too.” She rolled her lips in, thinking, and then said, “You know how, after you recognize each other as mates, you feel a bit frantic? Like you just have to… you know, like, right NOW? And how after a while, like ten days, for us, you know you can come back from isolation because it doesn’t feel like a “do or die” situation anymore? Well, I woke up in the middle of that last night, and bam! It was do or die all over again, but more like, do and do and do and do again and again and again, or explode, then eat a little, and sleep a little, and whamo! Do and do and again, you know?” 

She chuckled, and Boyd rolled his eyes, grinning. “We didn’t have time for a study break again for another _week_ and that study break lasted about three hours before we forgot all about our books _again_ for another five days. Then it was over, and truthfully? We didn’t come back right away because we needed the rest!”

They both laughed, looking at each other. Then Erica finished. “So we hung out and studied for a few more days and then, we finally came back.”

“Do you think you might be pregnant?” asked Lydia, shamelessly nosy as usual.

“Lydia! Oh my god!” Allison exclaimed, disbelieving.

Lydia looked at her knowingly. “Can you honestly tell me you don’t want to hear her answer?”

Allison giggled. “You are hopeless,” she told Lydia, but then admitted, blushing, “Of course I’d like to know.”

Erica dug into her school bag and threw a pregnancy test (thankfully with the clear plastic cap back on), onto the table. “Yep! I’m up the duff! I got a bun in the oven!” She raised her hands in victory, and crowed. “I’m with chiiiiild!!!” 

Boyd added with an exaggerated nod and a ridiculously loud whisper, “I knocked her up!” and they both dissolved in laughter.

“That is so awesome!” Stiles cried. “Oh, my god, guys, congratulations!”

“All of Wolfdom rejoices with you,” said Liam, who, since he did not know them well, even though he lived with their pack, fell back on the traditional idiom.

That only made the others' silence more obvious. Stiles looked towards Lydia, but she seemed to be having some intense wordless communication with Jackson. He turned to Scott, who was grinning at Allison while she gave him her dimpliest smile; she stood up and left the table.

Jackson got out his wallet and took a folded piece of paper out of the bills area. He opened it and looked at it with a smile before sliding it to the middle of the table. It was an ultrasound picture, showing either a cashew nut, or more likely, an early view of Jackson and Lydia’s unborn child.

Stiles pulled the paper towards him. “Are you serious? Is this a baby Whittmore in the making? Am I going to be Uncle Stiles twice over?”

“Three times over,” said Allison, throwing her own positive pregnancy test on the table and sitting back down, laughing.

“All three of you are _pregnant_?” asked Liam, astonished. “But, didn’t all of you just sort this year? How is this even possible?”

“It’s really not, but,” confided Allison, “once I started getting queasy in the mornings, I realized I might have gone into heat when we finally told everyone we were bonded, and we went into isolation.” 

“Yeah,” agreed Scott. “We thought it was just, you know, the excitement of not having to keep our mating a secret anymore, but well, it was just like you said. Do or die, for like, ten days, with just food and sleep breaks.” He grinned. “It was awesome.”

“Lydia is four weeks along,” said Jackson. “During the flower moon, we moved in the apartment in Whittemore House that Danny and some of the other guys in the pack had started to remodel for us while we were away.”

“We had been living in Jackson’s old rooms,” added Lydia, “which were plenty big, honestly. It was a surprise gift. Danny has wonderful tastes. It’s beautiful.”

“We thought we were really excited to be in our own home, and that maybe I just needed to make sure the place smelled like the both of us?” said Jackson. We were ridiculously enthusiastic that weekend.”

“But then, at school, there was several incidents in the janitor’s closet…”

“And the one in the Lacrosse locker room and then under the bleachers in the middle of practice…”

“And we almost got caught by our Alpha in his office…”

“And we even did it in the Porshe, so we suspected _something_ was going on.” They burst out laughing, and they were so cute. Ugh. Jackson and cute did not belong in the same sentence, but the way he was looking at the ultrasound picture of his child, running a finger lightly along it… well.

“We went to the clinic on Monday. We didn’t dare hope, truthfully. Who’s ever heard of a newly mated couple going into heat and having a baby within their first year?” Jackson admitted. 

“The average is three and a half years, but anything less than two years is one for the books,” added Lydia. She smiled at Stiles. “Unless, evidently, one of your closest friend happens to be an omega. Because then, it appears that it is three for three.”

“Wait a minute,” argued Stiles reasonably. “You can’t pin that one on me. First of all, I haven’t found my mate yet, and second, except for Scotty and Allison, you guys aren’t even in my pack!”

Lydia made a face. “I know. Your first point is valid. All our research, as well as the information from Deaton indicates that your permanent heat should only start once you have found your mate. But it’s possible for that information to be wrong. It’s not as if the number of omegas in the sample we studied is large enough to compensate for occasional errors in the data. As far as your second point, though, we may not all be pack, but we spend more time together than most packmates, so your cycle could definitely influence ours.”

“But I’m not in heat! I don’t have a mate!”

“Maybe people always assumed it was the omega’s own heat that triggers that of the females in his or her pack. But it might just be your chameleon pheromones, which we are all exposed to extensively, no heat necessary. We should ask Deaton what he thinks. All I know is, against all odds, all three of your close female friends are pregnant. I don’t believe in miracles, so what other explanation could there be?”

“Something in the water?” Stiles offered lamely.

Liam made a great show of pushing away the full glass in front of him, making a terrified face. “No! Get away from me! I’m to young to be a mother!!” he shrieked, but then he broke character and laughed so hard he snorted.

They all cracked up. They liked Liam. He was a great kid and was very funny, although sometimes, not entirely on purpose. He had become the little brother none of them had.

The sheriff poked his head inside the room. “Everyone’s working hard, I see.”

“Hey! We were!” Stiles assured him. “We are just taking a small break. What’s for dinner?”

“Kid, I just got home. What’s for dinner is whatever you’re cooking. Melissa won’t be home until nine.”

“Crap. Sorry, dad. I… Hey, if you didn’t cook, what’s that delicious smell?”

Derek stepped out of the kitchen, hands in the back pockets of his jeans, looking as bad-ass as he always did.

“I made rice, and stir fried everything I could find in the fridge,” he announced. 

“Thank you, Derek,” said the sheriff, surprised. “Cooking is not part of your official duties, so this is doubly appreciated.”

“They really were studying hard until about twenty minutes ago,” Derek confirmed for the sheriff. “I figured they would need fuel soon and that they should have a healthy, well balanced meal, now more than ever. Dinner is in ten minutes.” 

“Great. I’ll run through the shower,” said John. “Why don’t you all finish up for now and then go eat? You can get back to work afterwards.”

Derek had already retreated into the kitchen, and the door closed back up behind the sheriff.

“Do you think Derek Hale heard us?” whispered Erica.

Stiles snorted. “We need healthy, well balanced meals, _now more than ever_? Yeah, I’m pretty sure he heard.”

“Yeah,” Scott confirmed as he got up. “The downstairs area is not soundproof. He heard all right.” He added, super softly, “Actually, he’s still hearing.”

“No one knows,” whispered Lydia. “We were not going to tell anyone until after the first trimester was safely behind us.”

Scott shrugged. “We weren’t either.” 

“Yeah. Same here,” Boyd agreed quietly.

“Derek’s not going to tell anyone, stop worrying!” dismissed Stiles.

“Won’t he tell his Alpha?” asked Erica.

“Yeah, because he gets on the phone with her every night and keeps her informed of all of our high school dramas!” Stiles joked.

When they entered the kitchen, Derek was leaning by the window, arms crossed, as usual projecting the cold, powerful and vaguely threatening aura of a perfect Left Hand. 

He gave them all a calculating glare and said “I’m not in the habit of freely divulging information I might later use as leverage.” He added, after a rather ominous pause. “Knowledge is power.”

Stiles cracked up, and the others looked at him as if he were insane. “Guys,” he said, “he’s kidding.”

Scott whispered, as if Derek wasn’t _right there_ and perfectly able to hear him. “Dude, I don’t think he is,” which cause Stiles to crack up again. 

He shoved playfully at Derek, “Quit it. Just tell them their secret is safe and let’s eat!

Derek grinned at him and turned to the others. He shook his head and rolled his eyes at them. “Sit. Eat.”

“You were kidding?” Jackson verified.

“Dude, you’re so intimidating,” admitted Scott.

“He lets you guys scratch him behind the ears, and your mate once gave him a belly rub. How can you seriously still find him threatening?” wondered Stiles.

“I guess I forgot you and Stiles’ wolf are one and the same,” admitted Jackson.

Stiles’ eyes snapped up to him. “Rude, Dude. His wolf is not _mine_.”

“Stilinski, it’s a figure of speech. Derek is with you all the time!”

“Oh, I see. And that makes his wolf form my property? So from now on, I should refer to you as Lydia’s, since you’re with her all the time. Or as Lydia’s _other pet_. After all, Prada came first.”

“Oh my god! Fine! You made your point. Derek, I apologize for referring to you as Stiles’ wolf. What I meant to say was ‘The wolf who accompanies Stiles everywhere.’” 

Derek acknowledged his apology with a nod. 

“Perhaps we mentally dissociate you from your shifted form because until today, your shifted form is pretty much the only one we have had contact with,” reasoned Lydia.

“Actually, that excuse only make sense because you’re human,” mumbled Jackson, looking embarrassed and annoyed at himself. “Derek the wolf and Derek the man share the same scent to the rest of us. His physical form is irrelevant.”

“You act more approachable as a wolf, though,” remarked Erica.

“Yeah. Tell Matt that,” Stilled quipped, “He’ll tell you Derek’s alpha form is terrifying.”

“My alpha form is easily frightening,” Derek agreed. “To protect Stiles effectively, I need you to be comfortable having me around all the time, so I behave as mildly as possible.”

“You could not be very effective as a Left Hand if you were not intimidating, I guess,” reasoned Allison. “Your uncle is much worse. My mother hates him because he is the only werewolf who actually scares her, even if she’d never admit it.” 

Derek chortled. “She calls him The Hell Hound.”

“Oh, god!” Allison, turned bright red. “Peter’s not supposed to know that.”

“He probably loves it,” Stiles guessed. Derek shrugged.

The sheriff rejoined them, and they helped themselves to some of the plentiful and delicious food, sitting anywhere they could to eat it, since the kitchen table only sat six. Derek left them to it.

Stiles went after him and caught up with him by the stairs. “You’re not eating with us?”

“I ate already.” He smiled warmly at Stiles, so different alone with him that he was around the others. “I’ll see you later.”

Stiles watched him go up the stairs, wondering why he saved that side of himself only for Stiles and for his close family. He did not seem interested in making friends. On the other hand, Stiles liked his special relationship with Derek and was glad to keep him for himself.


	24. Graduation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, we found out that Stiles is already influencing the mated couples around him. The girls are all pregnant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! They are finally graduating!

They quit studying at 11:30PM, and Stiles was in bed by midnight. The bed he slept in at Hale House was actually more comfortable and much larger than his own, but his room at home had the added advantage of being shared with his favorite wolf.

He had been making a huge effort lately to throw his dirty clothes in the hamper and to put away the clean one right away. Since most of his studying took place in the dining room these days, he no longer had papers and folders all over the floor around his desk and he (almost) made his bed everyday. 

With a bit of reshuffling, most of his books had actually fit in the bookshelves, and there had been a couple of hours of dusting and vacuuming in there at some point, Melissa being kind enough to give him a hand.

Not that Derek had ever complained, not even the first night, when he’d had to clear himself an area to lie down, making Stiles feel horribly guilty. After the vacuuming, when Stiles had placed his folded winter quilt on Derek spot under the window, the wolf had made a great show of turning around three or four times before lying down with a great big sigh of contentment, and Stiles had responded surprisingly well to that bit of positive reinforcement.

As he now lay in bed, curled up on his side, Derek’s massive furry shoulders and back in his direct line of sight, he felt relaxed and comfy, glad to be home.

He thought back to Cora’s sorting. The wolf pack had left Hale house after breakfast and trotted to a large clearing not too far from the house. Cora, her parents, her siblings, as well as her uncle Peter and her cousin Pip had shifted back to their human form, completely at ease with being nude amongst their guests and the other Hale wolves. Talia and her girls had long enough hair to somewhat veil their breasts, but it was obvious they didn’t care one way or the other.

And why should they? With their constant intense physical training and their high healing power their bodies were beautiful: well honed tools, healthy and athletic. Trying to control his staring, and definitely keeping his eyes above waist level, Stiles noted all the adults sported the same tattoo as Derek on their upper back. He wondered if Cora would get it too, now that she was of age.

Joshua, Michael and Derek were definitely cut from the same cloth, their built muscular and powerful. Laura was a female version of the same. Samuel, Cora, Nora and Talia were more lissome and sinewy. Peter shared their lither frame, but carried more bulk, his sculpted musculature reflecting hours of strength training.

Was it the contrast between Derek’s slightly lighter skin and his darker hair that made him more attractive, in Stiles opinion, than his father and older brother? The three of them otherwise looked so similar.

During her silent communion with the moon, Cora had slowly shifted into her beta form, looking much more vicious that way than she did as a full wolf. Stiles couldn’t help but wonder what Derek looked like in his beta form.

After her Sorting and following her mating announcement, Cora had been hugged and celebrated by her family but then, all but Talia, Joshua and Angie had dispersed in the woods for a fun daytime moon run. Derek and Pip had joined Stiles, the contrast between the black wolf and pure white one striking. All three had hung out with the group of pups for a while, Claudia and Rumi anxious for their big brother’s attention.

Stiles was surprised when after a while Pip engaged him in a wrestling match as the youngest of the pups continued on without them. Although the young wolf was keeping his bites light and the swipes of his claws somewhat restrained so they did not tear Stiles clothes, it was not play fighting. Pip would attack, feint, and use all his strength and speed until he had Stiles on his back, with either his jaws or a sharply clawed paw at his throat.

After a couple of times Stiles started responding in kind, fighting the wolf back to the maximum of his abilities. Rumi, who had stayed behind with them, shifted back to human and started giving him pointers.

“Get in closer! Try to grab his snout and hold it closed! No! You have to watch his front paws! He’d have gutted you there! Use your hips!”

Pip was wily and skilled so it was easier said than done.

“Your best bet is to get on his back! Put your forearm under his jaw and pull it back! Oh, my god! You are so bad at this! His fur is sleek! You have to grab a hold of it or he’ll just… Yep. You‘re dead. Try again!”

Trying to restrain Pip was like trying to keep hold of a slippery bar of soap (with fangs).

Stiles was out of breath, and laughed when Pip took the classic, ”Wanna play?” canine pose, tail wagging, a grin on his wolfie face, egging him on. Stiles did not give him time to attack this time, but rushed him, hip checked him, and turned himself around to grab the wolf around the neck.

“There you go! Flip him! Flip him!” yelled Rumi. “Put your back into it and flip him! He’d have shredded your bum with his claws by now!”

Not sure how he managed it, Stiles, his hands gripping skin and fur, did manage to flip Pip and straddle his shoulders with the wolf lying on his side under him.

“Push your forearm on his throat!” yelled Rumi, “choke-hold him!”

Stiles did, trying to keep the wolf’s head down and cut his air. He thought he had him, but Pip rolled and somehow, once again, had his teeth at Stiles throat. Pip got off of Stiles, licked his hand and wagged his tail. Stiles scratched behind his ears to let him know there were no hard feelings.

Rumi shook his head and turned on Derek, who even in his wolf form stood taller than him. His hands on his hips, he yelled at his older brother. “You’re supposed to be protecting him! What if you were attacked? Is he supposed to just sit it out like some helpless lump? You’re not invincible, you know! He needs to at least know how to hold his own until help arrives! Have you even tried to teach him _anything_?”

It was funny to see Derek being chastised by the irate little boy who was so tiny compared to him and as naked as the day he was born. The black wolf lowered his big head, his ears flat, and huffed, giving Rumi a puppy eyed look.

“Don’t even try your cute puppy act with me, Derek. You know I’m right,” Rumi grumbled, but he still scratched his big brother behind the ears. He shifted back to a wolf and Derek licked his snout. Rumi took a swipe at his nose, then ran between his legs, jumped up and grabbed a hold of his tail with his sharp puppy teeth. Derek ran in circle, snapping his fangs inches from the puppy’s rump, unable (or more likely, unwilling) to nab him. Pip jumped into the fray and Stiles just sat against a tree, cheering all three in turn as they played fight, wrestling around on the forest floor.

Derek eventually rolled over in defeat, playing dead. The two younger wolves trotted away proudly, noses and tails in the air, to catch up with the rest of the pups. Still lying on his back, Derek gave Stiles a truly pathetic look, and laughing, Stiles got to his feet.

“Do you need a reward for letting them win? Does the big bad alpha wolf need a belly rub to soothe his pride?”

Derek wagged his tail, looking hopeful. Chuckling, Stiles gave in to his wordless request. After a minute he commented, “It’s like hanging out with an overgrown puppy dog, I swear!”

Derek growled and gave him a narrow eyed look, but continued enjoying the belly rub. 

“I have tamed the fearsome beast with my mad petting skills!" He gave Derek a dopey smile and said in a sugary voice, "You shall be my widdle pet, and I shall call you “Wolfie-bear!””

Derek was swiftly back on his feet, teeth bared, growling menacingly at him though his wagging tail kind of blew it. Laughing, Stiles backed off, hands raised protectively in front of him. “I take it back, I take it back! You are a terrifying creature!” he cried, and then he added, “Down doggie, down! That’s a good puppy!” Derek’s eyes flashed red and Stiles, squealing with laughter, turned around and fled.

Picking his path through the trees, still laughing, he ran hard but knew Derek was letting him get away, always staying a few feet behind him, growling and snapping his jaws at his heals occasionally for effect. Stiles made it to a clearing and looked up at the moon as he ran across it, a pale silvery white against the deep blue sky. With his next breath, he felt as if the silvery light filled his veins, wild energy once again coursing through his body with each beat of his heart.

He sped up effortlessly, his feet hardly touching the ground as he bolted away, streaking between the trees, flying over obstacles, feeling untouchable. He could hardly hear Derek’s footfalls behind him anymore. When he reached the stream, he leaped over it with ridiculous ease, landing with a gracefulness he thought himself to be completely incapable of, as if he had been transformed into a nimble woodland spirit.

Surrounded by the beauty of the primeval forest as the sun and the moon shared the clear blue sky, with Derek giving chase, he felt alive and free and happy, running, running, running.

He could no longer hear Derek behind him at all. Was he that far ahead of him , or was Derek making sure to be quiet? Stiles slowed down slightly, listening intently, and finally, unable to resist, turned around to check. He was looking back when he plowed right into someone who grabbed him and lifted him bodily from the ground. Stiles yelped in surprise and burst out laughing.

“I thought I told you never to look behind you while being chased!” growled Derek in his neck, before putting him back on the ground and holding him still as he dug through his day pack.

When Stiles faced him, Derek was wearing his shorts and tank top, grinning and holding the water bottle out to him.

“How did you get ahead of me?” Stiles complained, before taking a sip.

“With much difficulty. It was like chasing a damn gazelle! I think you are definitely affected by the moon. You ran at least as fast as a beta werewolf. I only got ahead of you because I ran full speed and know these woods like the back of my hand. Come on, there’s a clearing not too far from here. We can sit and have a snack. According to my little brother, we need to schedule some self defense training once you’re done with school…”

The clearing was lined with soft moss and grass. Stiles dropped his pack and stretched. Derek took off his tank top and said, “Take off your shirt, the sun feels good.”

Stiles did, felt the sun on his skin and with his eyes closed, raised his face towards its warmth. He shivered as Derek caressed his shoulders and back and then pulled him close and kissed him. Derek carefully laid him down on the ground and Stiles opened his eyes and looked at him.

“Stiles,” whispered Derek. He kissed down Stiles body as Stiles gazed heavenward, the trembling green leaves beautiful against the blue sky, the silvery moon close enough to reach. Derek’s warm mouth took him in, soft, wet and hot around his hard cock and Stiles spread his legs, giving himself over.

Derek’s fingers slid inside of him and Stiles came on his tongue, shivering with pleasure. Derek’s cock replaced his fingers, and he kissed Stiles mouth, again and again, as their bodies rocked in harmony until they reached completion together, looking in each other’s eyes. “Stiles…”

Stiles woke up slowly from his dream, his bedroom still dark. That was definitely not how the afternoon of the full moon had gone. They had shared Reeses Peanut Butter Cups, they had talked about possible training, about their coming trips, about running under the moon. They had not made love in the soft grass under the warm sun. They never would. Stiles felt betrayed by his subconscious. It was unfair. He was over this.

Derek was wonderful and beautiful and _his friend_. He turned his head into his pillow. His friend, damnit. Stiles’ stubborn, traitorous subconscious better get with the program. 

He was tired when his alarm went off, but he crawled out of bed to run anyway. From then on, when he went to bed after studying with his friends, he made sure to busy his mind with solving differential equations or reviewing the structure of the federal government in his head, which insured that he fell asleep in no time, and he didn’t dream like that again. 

Studying all day and half of the night was the pattern for the next few days. Even with falling asleep more rapidly, it was tough to get up in the morning to go run, but he felt better and more able to concentrate for the exercise.

When Monday rolled around, he was ready for his finals, and when he turned in his last exam on Wednesday afternoon, he knew he had nailed them all.

Lydia had finished their last exam even faster than he had and was waiting for him just outside the classroom. She asked, “How did you do?” as if she did not care at all. 

They started walking in the deserted corridor, toward their lockers. “Awesome, obviously. With the extra credit papers I turned in, in Government and in English, I think I’ve got valedictorian in the bag,” answered Stiles facetiously.

She stopped in her tracks and turned on him. “They told me I couldn’t do any extra credit work!” she protested, incensed.

Stiles cracked up. “As if I ever would, even if they let us! Don’t worry: I’m pretty sure that, of the two of us, they figured out long ago who’d give the better speech. Plus I’m sure Harris would veto me for valedictorian until his last breath, if it wasn’t already obvious that you outsmart everyone in this school. You’re it, Lydia. Just keep the valedictorian speech short and sweet, OK?”

“You really think they will give it to me?” she asked, looking at him intently, trying to guess his seriousness.

“Not a doubt in my mind.” He ginned at her.

“And you’re not mad?” She confirmed worriedly. “We do have the same GPA.”

He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “Everyone in our class knows you deserve it Lydia. I’m just glad I get to be your salutatorian.”

“It’s stupid to get so hung up about this,” she admitted with a shrug, “especially with what we have to look forward to.” Her hand touched lightly on her abdomen. “But it has meant so much to me for so long. I was so fed up with being underestimated, with being looked upon as a tiny, decorative little human all my life. I promised myself freshman year that I would show everyone what I was capable of, that I would rule this school. Funny how, now that I have achieved everything I wanted, my priorities have shifted so much that it’s hard to remember why it mattered.”

“Lydia, just because you are moving on to bigger and better things doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take pride in your success, and celebrate it.” He lifted her chin until their eyes met. “I’m proud of you, and so is your mate, and so are your parents, and your pack, and your friends! And we feel privileged to be part of your life, lucky to be there to witness and to be in your cheering section as you continue to blow everyone out of the water.”

Lydia hit him on the shoulder, her eyes overly bright. “Shut up, you jerk,” she said. “You’ll make me ruin my mascara!” She gave him a tight hug and escaped into the girl’s bathroom.

As he walked to his locker of four years for what would probably be one of the last time, Stiles felt a tad emotional himself. 

His father, his Alpha, would be very proud of him. He had done well. His pack-brother and Allison would always be by his side, no matter what, and he had good friends who cared about him. He smiled at Derek, the huge wolf’s familiar eyes making it impossible for him to ever forget he was also the man Stiles had grown close to. 

Hardly having to bend down at all, he put his arm around Derek’s neck and buried his face in his soft, thick fur. Derek pushed against him until Stiles had to tighten his hold, hugging the wolf.

“I’m so lucky,” he told him. “It’s hard to imagine ever being any happier than I am right now.”

~o~

Graduation day dawned beautiful and sunny, as it had at Beacon High as long as anyone could remember. No graduation had ever had to be relocated to the gym from the Lacrosse pitch. The bleacher sections closest to the Dais was reserved for the Alphas of the graduates, the next closest for their parents, and the rest of the seats was occupied by pack members and friends. The place was packed.

On the dais were all the teachers as well as all the members of the staff, from the principal’s secretary to the janitors, as all of them had played a part in the students’ success. Old Miss Wilkins, from the attendance office, was the one who every year, had the honor of calling out the names of the students as they got up the stairs and across the stage to receive their diploma. She managed to infuse her voice with joy and enthusiasm, setting a celebratory tone to the repetitive proceedings.

The line of students was , out of sight behind the dais, winding back and forth within a maze of rope-linked posts which kept them from wandering out of alphabetical order in their excitement.

Miss Wilson started with “Allison Aurelie Argent, an alpha of the Stilinski pack!” Allison’s name pretty much dictated that she’d always be first. She walked across the stage with poise, her bow to school employees graceful. She accepted her diploma from principal Taylor with a smile, walked down the stairs at the other end of the dais, and respectfully bowed her head to John, who, as her Alpha, had stood when her name was called.

“You are an asset to our pack, Allison,” stated John for all to hear. They smiled at each other, and she went to sit in her designated seat amongst the chairs lined up in rows in front of the dais, waving joyfully to her proud parents.

“Milton Vernon Boyd the third, an alpha of the Reyes pack!” Boyd walked across calmly, gave the staff a perfunctory nod, and received his diploma with gravitas, all the while ignoring the wild cheering of his father, uncle and cousins, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

Alpha Reyes, who was chuckling at Boyd’s native pack’s antics, told him warmly, “Boyd, you bring honor to our pack today.” He bowed to her respectfully, grinned and gave his old pack a victory sign, and went to take his sit next to Allison.

When Cora’s turn came, Miss Wilkins called “Cora Rose Hale, an alpha from the Hale pack!” and Alpha Hale responded, from the Alpha’s section, “Cora brings much joy to our pack today.”

Later, when she called “Daniel Kaipo Mahealani, an alpha of the Whittemore pack!”, Alpha Whittemore responded “Danny is a great asset to our pack.” 

When she got to “Scott Rafael McCall, an alpha of the Stilinski pack!”, he and Stiles high-fived before he climbed on the dais. He bounced across the stage, saluted the staff with a grin and a nod, and thanked the principal when he was handed his diploma.

John smiled at him. “You are a credit to our pack, Scott, and a shield to your packmates.” Scott put his hand on his heart as he bowed to him. He jogged to the parents’ section to give him mom a kiss before going to take his seat. That explained why, despite much griping from the others, Scott had insisted they should all get to the school a whole hour early. Being the first one there, and as Scott had evidently planned all along, Melissa had been able to take a seat in the very front of the parents section.

When “Lydia Elisabeth Martin, an alpha of the Whittemore pack!” was called, both the Whittemore and the Martin packs started clapping and cheering. They were the two most numerous packs within the township, so it was an impressive show. Lydia confidently crossed the stage, somehow managing to make their less than flattering graduation gown appear elegant. She _curtsied_ to the staff, and regally accepted from the smiling principal, first the gold sash that officially announced her as the valedictorian, then her diploma.

She walked down the stairs and bowed to Alpha Whittemore. “You bring pride and respect to our pack today, Lydia,” he said. She acknowledged his words with a small nod, and walked back up the stairs to take a sit on the far side of the dais, in preparation for later delivering her speech.

When her time came, “Erica Delphine Reyes, an alpha of the Reyes pack!” actually victory danced her way across the stage, and after getting her diploma, raised her hands in the air and hooted proudly. She jumped off the dais and waved the rolled parchment at her mom joyfully.

Alpha Reyes smiled and told her daughter, “You are the pride and joy of our pack, Erica.” Erica grinned, but bowed to her respectfully. Then her natural exuberance came back and she high-fived all the graduates she passed on the way to her seat. 

Stiles was next. He had begged old Miss Wilkins to _please_ not announce him by his actual first name, and hoped very much she’d taken pity upon him. He was extremely relieved when she called out “Stiles R. Stilinski, an omega of the Stilinski pack!” 

Though he might have expected it, he was still shocked by the responding thundering applause. It was so ludicrous. Resigned, he made his way up the stairs, of course tripping on the last one and making his usual flailing entrance. He bowed to the teachers, giving an additional nod to Coach Finstock and at the last second, sticking his tongue out to Harris for good measure.

He smiled at Principal Taylor and bent his head down so it would be easier for the slightly shorter man to place the silver salutatorian sash around his neck and shoulder. He accepted his diploma with a grin and quickly got off the dais.

His Alpha was standing for the third time that day, looking proudly at his son. Because he was a great Alpha but a horrible, horrible dad, he declared, “Stiles, you are a blessing to all Wolfdom,” which of course everyone took as a signal that they should get on their feet and clap enthusiastically again.

Stiles glared at his father who was outright laughing at him. Following Scott’s example, he jogged over to give Melissa a kiss, but had to wait for her to stop laughing first. When he finally bussed her cheek, she said, close to his ear , “You bring honor to our pack today, Stiles,” and he forgave their silliness, because his Alpha and his Alpha’s second were the best.

A small group in the “packmates and friends” area of the bleachers attracted his attention because they were _not_ standing and clapping. He looked over and saw Peter, Pip, Ella, Gin, Joshua, and six of his children smiling and waving at him. He knew Laura was still away with Tim but he looked for Derek and didn’t see him. He had to be there; he’d arrived with them that morning. Yet he was nowhere to be found.

Disappointed, he made his way to his seat. Thankfully, the applause stopped as soon as he sat down, allowing Miss Wilkins to immediately introduce the next graduate, “Malia Ann Tate, a beta of the Tate Pack!” 

He finally saw Derek, standing in front of the stage to the right with Jordan Parrish, who was working security for the event. His stance reminded Stiles of the evening a couple of month before, when he had reported a serial-killer looking guy lurking at the edge of the woods to Parrish during practice.

Derek’s eyes were scanning the crowd, looking for trouble, watching over Stiles as always. It was his constant vigilance that had made it possible for Stiles’ life to go back to a normal this past month and Stiles knew that as long as Derek was around, he would be safe and happy.

“Jackson Patrick Whittemore, an alpha of the Whittemore pack!” was the last name called by Old Miss Wilkins. He strutted across the stage confidently, nodded to the teachers, and received his diploma with a winning smile. Before walking off the dais, he took a moment to walk to Lydia and kiss her hand, making her blush.

It was the third time Alpha Whittemore got to stand and honor one of his young alphas as well. He looked at his son with satisfaction. “You have garnered respect for our pack this year and bring honor to us today, Jackson.” Although Jackson still mostly behaved like an arrogant douchebag, he was actually the one who needed reassurance the most, and he glowed under his Alpha’s public praise. It was a good ending to the ceremony.

The principal announced Lydia with a glowing introduction, and she joined him at the pulpit to give her speech. She thanked him for his compliments and as she started with the usual greetings, Stiles was grateful she had been chosen for the job. She was gracious and at ease, the self-confidence and charisma that made her a natural leader perfect for the representative of their class.

He looked at Derek again, and for a brief moment caught his eye. Derek gave him one of the real smiles that seemed reserved for him since they had become close friends, then he went back to scanning the crowd.

In two days, they would start visiting the non-mated alphas compatible with him. There had been a glut of filled questionnaires in the last eligible week, and the number of valid candidates had ballooned from thirty-nine to sixty-two. 

Since they were all within a four hundred mile radius of the Beacon Township, Derek and Stiles would drive to all the meetings. The road system outside of the townships was bare-boned, but diligently policed and maintained in excellent repair by the federacy. Derek’s Camaro had been exempted by a special federal warrant from following the speed limit, so it was feasible to visit even the furthest located alpha in one day. Lydia, Deaton, Derek and the sheriff had decided what order the visits would take place, but the timetable was left open for Stiles (and Derek) to decide.

The candidates were only getting a twenty-four hour notice, and Stiles would be able to make as many repeat visits to any particular alpha as he wanted. He did not have to rush the process or feel constrained by someone else’s schedule. 

Stiles and his friends had decided early on to all apply to the same four universities, choosing those that offered the programs each of them wanted, and were hoping at least one would accept all of them. Now that the girls had discovered they were pregnant, they would all delay attending for a year. They were hoping to all share housing and thinking that, with their different schedules and perhaps an with the help of an accompanying beta from the Whittemore pack, together they could manage to care for the babies and all go to school. 

They had not yet discussed the delay in the plan with Danny and his new mate, but Jackson seemed quite sure that even if Danny started university in the fall, he would attend the one Jackson and Lydia would eventually also attend, so they could all be together. 

Stiles was grateful he had been included in these plans even though his future was so uncertain. For example, if his mate were the Alpha of a pack, he would not necessarily be able to join his friends. Being apart was difficult for mated pairs, even more so if the bond was recent, and an Alpha simply could not leave his or her pack. There were many other reasons why he might be prevented from participating in their university adventure, but none of them had brought them up, letting him enjoy the planning and anticipation right along with them.

In forty-eight hours, Stiles would be on the way to meet his first potential mate. The thought was a bit too nerve wrecking, so he instead chose to concentrate on the fact that he would be spending untold hours enjoying Derek’s company. Depending on the schedule, Stiles would either come home between trips, or stay in the Stilinski rooms at Hale house. Either way, Derek would be his nearly constant companion, and what could be better than that?

His thoughts were interrupted when everyone started clapping at the end of Lydia’s speech, Stiles classmates getting to their feet around him to give her a standing ovation. Oops. He followed suite, chastising himself for missing the whole thing. Lydia would strangle him if she found out. Oh, well, what she didn’t know would not hurt her (or him). So he smiled and hooted and clapped with the best of them, and later, during the school mixer, agreed whole-heartedly anytime someone mentioned how uplifting her talk had been.

Once the pack (plus one) made it back to Stilinski house, they had a family barbeque in the back yard as their private celebration. John and Melissa had graciously invited Chris and Victoria Argent. Chris turned out to be easy to get along with, but Victoria was as warm and friendly as an iceberg, barely acknowledging John, completely dismissing Scott, and being frankly hostile towards Derek. It made for a rather uncomfortable atmosphere.

After a whispered exchange, Allison and Scott, hoping to improve the situation, stood up to get everyone’s attention. Holding hands, they turned to John in recognition of the fact that it was expected for the Alpha to be told first, since they were rather playing loose with tradition. Scott also used the ritual language customary for such an announcement. 

“Alpha, the Stilinski pack prospers under your leadership. The mating bond between alpha Allison Argent and myself, alpha Scott McCall, has been blessed, and soon the pack will increase in number. Allison bears the future of our pack.”

John looked stunned, but nonetheless had the wherewithal to reply as expected, “Your mating garnered respect for our pack, and its fruit will insure its survival. You both are assets to our pack, and I am privileged to be your Alpha.” Then he grinned and asked, “Allison? Is it true? Are you really pregnant?”

She smiled. “Yes! We’re going to have a baby!” She giggled, shaking her head in her own disbelief.

After that, the ambiance definitely improved. Victoria was not more amicable (her less than ideal response that “Well, at least, with a human mother and a human paternal grandmother, this baby has a decent chance of being human as well!” got exactly the attention and responses it deserved, which is to say, none whatsoever), but faced with such happy and extraordinary news, the others found it much easier to ignore her and have a wonderful time. The future grandpas bonded over the grill and Melissa all but floated above ground she was so excited. 

Allison was only eight weeks pregnant at the most, but Melissa still went inside to get her stethoscope, _just in case_. She, unsurprisingly, was not able to hear the fetus’ heartbeat, and a bit disappointingly, neither were Scott and John although they had scores of 3 and 4 respectively in sensory perception. Melissa was about to put the stethoscope away when Derek, who had so far stood slightly apart from the family celebration, standing unobtrusively in a shaded corner, quietly asked Allison, “Would you mind if I gave it a try?”

She smiled. “No, of course not, Derek. I would not mind at all.”

Melissa handed him the stethoscope and he crouched next to Allison’s chair. “Mrs. McCall, would you show me where you think the heart beat would most likely be heard?” he asked. “I’ve really no idea.”

Melissa grinned at him and pointed. “This area is where a werewolf physician might be able to detect it this early in the pregnancy with a Fetal Doppler. As a human, even with a Doppler, I would not hear it for another couple of weeks, probably.”

Derek placed the stethoscope against the skin of Allison lower tummy and listened carefully. Concentrating, he moved it around the area Melissa had indicated, just as John and Scott had done before. Suddenly, he smiled and, reaching for Allison’s wrist, started beating a fast rhythm on it with his index finger. He looked up at her chortling. “It’s so fast! And it sounds like “Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow!”

“Oh, my god!” She marveled. “Derek! You can hear my baby!”

Derek nodded, smiling back at her. “Yes, I can.”

“That makes it so real!” she cried happily. 

Scott squeezed her hand and beamed at her. “That’s so cool, our little peanut has a beating heart!” He turned to Derek. “Thanks, man.” 

“You’ll hear it soon, I’m sure,” Derek said apologetically.

Scott laughed. “Sooner than you think: We have a doctor’s appointment on Monday for an ultrasound. But it’s awesome to know it’s there.”

Allison touched Derek’s arm lightly. “It is. It’s wonderful. Thank you, Derek.”

“All of Wolfdom rejoices with you,” replied Derek, falling back on formality.

As Scott and Allison answered questions about their coming appointment, Derek quietly retreated inside the house. How could a man with such an imposing presence and a dominating and mildly threatening demeanor be so uncomfortable when faced with the evidence that two young people he had shared a house with for over a month might actually like him?

Stiles followed him to the kitchen where Derek had taken a post by the window. He had apparently decided it gave a wide enough view of the back yard so that he could watch over Stiles safety just fine from there.

“Scott and Allison like you, you know,” he said, teasingly.

Derek shrugged. “They don’t know me.”

“Not entirely true, but anyway, it wouldn’t matter, because they are both made of sunshine and rainbows , and love _everybody_.”

Derek chortled. “You’re ridiculous. And how unfair is it that you, with no siblings, will soon be an uncle three times over, while I, with my _eight_ brothers and sisters, have yet to become one?”

“Are you jealous?”

“Absolutely. I love babies. Claudia and Rumi have grown too fast and it’s improbable my parents will have more pups now. So I have to place my hopes in my siblings, which at this point pretty much means Laura, because Michael, after eleven years, has yet to find his mate, the looser, and Samuel, his own five years of wait only overlooked because of Michael’s outrageously bad karma, hasn’t met his either. These two are a disgrace,” he joked.

“Well, I’m suppose to find my mate pretty soon. If she’s female, hello! I’m an omega: she should be pregnant, like, the next day, right? I might even beat your parents’ preposterous baby-making record! And you can be the uncle to _all_ my babies. So there.”

Derek smiled, but it was not the luminous smile Stiles had grown accustomed to and had been expecting. 

“Thank you, Stiles,” he said, but it didn’t sound as if he was looking forward to it. At all. 

Was Derek worried he would no longer matter to Stiles once he was mated, that Stiles was just saying that now, but didn’t really mean it? Because that was just silly! Stiles was about to ask about it when he remembered: Shit. Derek was cleaved. He loved children, and had probably dreamed of raising many of them with his mate, and now that she had passed, he never would. Stiles had just reminded him of that. He felt terrible.

Nothing he could say would help, he _knew_ that, but the silence between them was pressing on him and he could feel himself about to blurt out something, anything, just to fill it. With his luck, it would probably be the most inappropriate thing possible. He bit his tongue and looked out the window to distract himself, internally screaming “Shut up, shut up, shut up”, not noticing the light rustling sounds behind him until a cold wet nose touched his earlobe as Derek’s black snout came to rest on his shoulder.

Derek had taken off his clothes and shifted, making everything simpler. Stiles was able to hug the wolf in apology and commiseration, burying his face in the soft clean fur of his neck, happy to be able to express his affection for Derek so freely in this form. He just wanted to cuddle that wolf and never let him go. Derek huffed and tried to move Stiles towards the back door, to get him to rejoin the party.

“Not yet. Just one more minute,” pleaded Stiles, not letting go.

The wolf sighed noisily, as if totally put upon, but rearranged his position so that his nose was comfortably behind Stiles ear while his head rested on Stiles shoulder and his neck was flush against Stiles’ chest. Best wolfie hugger ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was not suppose to be this long! I thought I'd get here in 3-4 chapters max. Bwahahaha... but they are finally done with school!  
> Derek and Stiles are ready for their excellent adventure! I am expecting 8 more chapters, 10 max. Yeah. We'll see.  
> I have demonstrated already how bad I am at estimating the amount of writing it takes to get from one of the chapters that were completed and ready to go when I started posting to the next.  
> The filler chapters tend to take a life on their own, and actually become waaaayyyy more than fillers, more like all new arcs... *Bangs head on desk*


	25. First visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To refresh your memory:
> 
> Stiles doesn't sort as an alpha or a beta when his sorting moon comes, but as extremely rare and infinitely valuable omega. Left alone, he will eventually find his perfect match, among the many unmated alphas, but is at high risk of being taken and forcefully matched, since then he will become the perfect mate of the alpha that claims him. After a few too many brushes with kidnapping and rape, he is put under the direct protection of the mighty Hale pack and get his own personal bodyguard, Derek, a "cleaved" alpha trained as the Left Hand of the future Hale Alpha. Behind the brooding, uncommunicative and intimidating face Derek present to the world at large, Stiles discover the thoughtful, intelligent man with plenty of sarcastic humor and a playful side that only his close family members ever get to see. As his affection for Derek grows, his subconscious latches on the immediate physical attraction Stiles felt for him, and plagues him with multiple, extremely vivid sex dreams. Lydia and his friends create a web site to select the most likely alphas for him to be attracted to, and as soon as he graduates high school, he and Derek start taking road trips to meet the contenders.

Stiles checked the time. He had been tossing and turning for… three hours and forty five minutes. Considering he had gotten to bed at ten-thirty and he and Derek were suppose to leave the house at eight to get to Bodega by ten thirty, and that they planned on running at six-thirty, he was looking at a ridiculously short night. He doubted that meeting his first potential mate after only four hours of sleep was ideal. 

Tomorrow, as arranged by Deaton, he was meeting an eighteen year-old girl named Lilith Barber from the Song pack. Lydia and Deaton had been preparing folders for each applicant with some basic information they felt he should have before meeting them, so he knew a few things about her. In the folder there also was a questionnaire for him to fill out after each visit, so he could remember who was who twenty or thirty visits down the road.

Lilith had an older brother, Noah. Both he and her parents were betas. The Alpha of their pack, Harry Song, and his mate Lorelei had a twelve year-old son, Ben. The rest of the pack consisted of fourteen betas and three children not yet sorted.

Their territory included a stretch of miles of flat beach, and the pack’s wealth came from the salt they harvested, packaged and sold. It was rich in iodine and other oligo-element much prized by land-locked packs in the Midwest. They worked hard but lived well, and had excellent relations with all the neighboring packs.

Lilith had been an A student in high school, she was optimistic and outgoing, she liked to read, swim and snorkel, was a good cook and liked taking long walks on the beach. Stiles had snorted when he had read that synopsis. It sounded like a cliché ad from a matrimonial agency. He had shared that thought with Derek who had answered with a smirk that she and Stiles would be great together since he liked puppies, watching movies and gazing at the stars.

“They are all going to sound a little like that, Stiles,” he’d pointed out. “Deaton just provided you with an ultra short resume so you could have some basis for conversation. In her case, her love for long walks on the beach is justified: She lives right on the ocean. She sounds nice,” he’d added, positively.

Stiles turned over in his bed again, fluffing his pillow for the tenth time, trying to calm his thoughts. Neither reviewing chemistry nor government had worked to put him to sleep tonight. He’d even solved a couple of differential equations, but to no avail.

Suddenly, there was a cold nose in his ear, a rustling sound and man-Derek was standing next to his bed, his silhouette dark against the moonlight.

“Why don’t you get up. We’ll run now, and come back when you’ve worked out your nerves.”

“Yeah?” It did sound like a great alternative to tossing and turning until his alarm went off.

“Yeah, come on. You’ll never go to sleep otherwise. Plus we won’t have to get up as early.” 

“All right, let’s do it,” said Stiles sitting up.

Derek turned away and walked to the door to go to his bedroom and get his running clothes on. The light of the waning moon illuminated his muscular back for a moment, and Stiles was vividly reminded of Derek’s nakedness. He looked magnificent. A little voice in his head remarked that seconds before, Derek had been _facing_ him while completely nude, standing only a couple of feet away from him, and that, had it not been for the back lighting… 

OK! Well, if they were going to run, Stiles needed to put on his running clothes, didn’t he? Yep, and he’d better move it, or he’d make Derek wait!

They ran on the empty streets of the township, in companionable silence, their breaths and the light sound of their feet hitting the pavement the only disturbances of the quiet of the night. Their strides matched perfectly, and soon, they were breathing in the same rhythm, their bodies naturally synchronizing. Stiles was soothed by Derek’s presence, his subconscious awareness of Derek’s power and strength making him feel safe, relaxed and content despite the rapid pace of their run. They were close enough to each other that their shoulders or arms would occasionally touch.

Half an hour and five miles later, they had made their way back to Stilinski house. They went back upstairs in stocking feet, holding their shoes in their hands. Derek went to his room to run through the shower and Stiles did the same. He had just put on fresh sleep pants and a clean sleep shirt when Derek came back into his room, a wolf once again.

Stiles got under the covers, and Derek lay next to his bed, abandoning his usual spot under the window, as if he could feel that his closeness brought Stiles the feeling of inner peace and comfort he needed to relax. Stiles rolled onto his belly, his right arm off of the bed, letting the tip of his fingers lightly touch the soft black fur of the wolf’s shoulder. He meant to thank Derek for his thoughtfulness, or at least tell him good night, but he was literally asleep in seconds. 

He woke up to Derek shaking his shoulder gently. “Stiles! Time to get up!” 

He opened his eyes. Derek was freshly shaved, fully dressed, and smiling at him. “I let you sleep as long as possible. We leave in fifteen minutes. I have coffee ready in to-go cups, an electric shaver in the car and I stole a few of Mrs. McCall’s muffins. I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.”

Stiles rolled out of bed, ran through a quick cool shower to fully wake up and get his bed head under control, brushed his teeth and got dressed in the clothes Allison had picked out of his closet the day before. It was just a pair of jeans and a long sleeve T, nothing special as far as he could tell. She had insisted he should wear a belt (what was it with fashion savvy people and belts?), had matched his socks to his shirt (who knew? And more to the point, who _cared_?) and had gifted him with a bran new pair of converse, because apparently his worn, stained ones were just not good enough.

He was downstairs in plenty of time, which was a good thing since apparently his entire pack felt it necessary to hug him goodbye, as if he were off to war instead of coming home for dinner. He was glad for the hugs but grateful for Derek, whose gentle reminder kept the sweet but nonsensical demonstrations of affection to a reasonable limit.

Stiles plugged in his phone into the stereo system and as Derek drove, they listened to one of the playlist Stiles had asked his friends to create for him for the many road trips to come. Today’s was Danny’s, a collection of upbeat dance tunes which made a good soundtrack for speeding down the mostly empty highway. They did not speak much, Derek evidently concentrating on driving, and Stiles letting his mind wander as he watched the countryside fly by. He was surprised when they slowed down considerably and made their way down a narrow but well maintained track towards the ocean. Were they already there?

After they drove for a while between fragrant pines growing in yellow sand, a large house appeared amidst the trees, the blue ocean as its backdrop. Derek asked, “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, I guess,” answered Stiles, taking in the beauty of the environment.

He didn’t have time to get nervous as they were soon parking in a marked area, on the side of a circular drive, in front of a large outbuilding. They got out and took a white gravel path towards the house. There were four people waiting for them at the foot of the stairs, two men, a woman, and a teenaged girl in a pretty floral dress.

At first, the woman was the only one looking at Stiles, a welcoming expression on her face, the others concentrating on Derek, but as they got closer, the girl’s attention shifted to him, and she gave him a shy smile. He smiled back.

The shorter of the two men’s eyes burned red, as if he could not completely control his reaction to the presence of an unfamiliar alpha on his doorstep. Derek graciously ignored it, and kept his own expression benign. The man cleared his throat and said, his voice tense, “Omega Stilinski. I am Alpha Harry Song, this is my mate and Second, Lorelei, and my brother and Left Hand, George. Hm. You and your escort are welcome in the Song territory.”

“You are indeed welcome,” said Lorelei, taking his arm soothingly. “We would be honored if you could both join us for lunch later?” she asked Stiles.

“That would be nice, thanks,” Stiles answered. She nodded, and both she and the Alpha turned away and quickly walked back toward the house, leaving Stiles a bit confused. 

As the door closed behind them, Georges chortled sheepishly. “We don’t get a lot of visitors here, like none, really, and dealing with other packs is my job, obviously,” he explained. “Alpha Hale, welcome. Believe me, we are all excited about your visit, omega Stilinski. It’s just… Well, I don’t think Harry had given any thought to the fact that your bodyguard would be such a powerful alpha and…” There really was no way for him to apologize for his Alpha. It would show disrespect and disloyalty. Stiles now understood the Alpha’s behavior, and Derek just dismissed the entire thing with a small nod.

George smiled and sighed in relief. “…Anyway. I’m sure Harry meant to tell you that we are all honored by your presence, and to finish the introductions. Omega Stilinski, alpha Hale, this is Lilith Barber, an alpha of the Song pack.”

“Hello, alpha Hale, hello, Stiles.” She was not classically pretty. Her mouth was small with very full lips and her nose had a noticeable bump on it. Her one beauty was her very thick, wavy and long honey blond hair, held back from her face by a butterfly clip, escaped tendrils framing her face. She smiled at Stiles. Her front teeth were charmingly crooked. “You do prefer when people call you Stiles, don’t you?” Her lashes, like her hair, were thick and long. Her eyes were plain brown but they shone with good humor. 

“Yep. I definitively prefer Stiles.”

“So, how about we pretend like this all situation is not awkward as hell, and I show you all the things I love about our territory?” 

Stiles cracked up. “Sounds good.” 

Lilith turned to George. “Can you come along and discuss “very important” Left Hand things with alpha Hale so he can watch over Stiles without feeling like some eighteenth century chaperon?”

“Sure. “Very Important” Left Hand Things. Hmm… So, Hale. Love your ride. How does she drive?”

~o~

By the time they got back to the Camaro to head home, Stiles was exhausted. The visit had only lasted a little over five hours (including a delicious lunch during which the Song Alpha had thoroughly apologized for his less than exemplary behavior upon their arrival), yet he was completely worn out. He only dragged out the form he was supposed to fill out after each visit because he had promised himself to start as he meant to go on and because Lydia would kill him otherwise.

“Sooo,” he said, sliding the Polaroid photo of Lilith and himself, smiling, their backs to a gorgeous view of the ocean, that Derek had taken earlier. “1. Personality: I’d say, very likable. What do you think?” he asked Derek.

“These are supposed to record your impressions, Stiles. Not mine.”

Stiles shrugged. “I’m supposed to record what I want to record. And that includes your impressions.”

Derek rolled his eyes.

“Likable?”

“Yes.”

“Funny, right? And thoughtful.”

“Yes.”

“Yes funny or yes thoughtful?”

“Yes.”

“Deeeereeeek! Come on! What do you think?”

Derek sighed. “Fine. Extremely likable. Kind. Great sense of humor.”

“Thank you! I agree. 2. Looks: Quirky, but in a good way. Right?”

“Nice hair.”

“Gorgeous hair, Dude. And a very cute smile.”

“Unusual looks, but they quickly grow on a person.”

“Yes! Totally! Lilith has charm. Tons of charm. 3. Scent?

“You are human. Why would they ask you to record anything about her scent?”

“I told you your input was expected! Still, even with my week nose, I _could_ smell her shampoo. Nice and floral. What else?”

“Flint.”

“Flint? Uh. Like the stone? Is that good or bad?”

“It’s flint. Scents are neither good nor bad. They are more like… colors. You like some better than others, but they are not “Good” or “Bad”.”

“Well everyone likes blue, but a lot of people dislike purple,” Stiles pointed out.

“So blue is good and purple is bad?” asked Derek.

“No. Guess not. I see what you mean.” He grinned. “Yet everybody love the way I smell.”

“Yes, but you smell differently to everyone, don’t you.”

“Chameleon pheromone, a rainbow of scent.”

“Right.”

Stiles looked at Derek. “Is there a scent you dislike?”

“Bleach.”

“So on a scale where my scent would be a ten, and bleach would be zero, where is flint to you?”

“Neutral, I guess. A five. Like grey or orange, for colors.”

“Uh. What’s your favorite color? Duh. Stupid question. Black, right?”

“Black is the _absence_ of color. But yes, I like black.”

“But it’s not your favorite?”

“No.”

“So what is?”

Derek smiled a little. “…Golden brown.”

“Golden Brown? Golden brown? Ok. That’s just weird. Golden brown! You don’t even own anything that color!”

“It suits only very few things,” explained Derek, still smiling.

Since there seemed to be no further explanation coming, Stiles shrugged, putting it down to Derek’s being a special snow flake. “Oooooook then. And what’s your favorite scent?”

“Yours, obviously. Didn’t you already decide your own scent was my ten?” mocked Derek.

“You are so annoying! You know what I mean! What do I smell like to you?”

Derek took a deep breath and smiled. “Durian fruit.”

“…Oh.” To Stiles, Durian stank. It _literally_ smelled like, well, …shit. He tried to suppress the part of him that was thinking: ‘Oh, my god! Gross! So, so, gross!’ After all, he had not passed any such judgment on Derek’s favorite color. Well, he had, kind of, because it was plain weird but why should he judge a wolf olfactory taste by his own limited human bias? Still… Durian? Whhhhhhy? “Uh… Really?”

Dear god. He smelled like shit to Derek.

“Yes. A lot of weres like the scent of Durian fruit,” added Derek. “It’s quite popular.”

That was… an uncomfortable revelation. It meant Stiles smelled like actual shit to quite a few people. Yuck. But _wait a minute_. He smelled like coffee grounds to Vern, like freesia to Boyd, like _oranges_ to Scott. And the girls at school wore perfume, and the guys wore cologne, and none of them smelled like _Durian_! 

Derek snorted. He had obviously been trying to keep is laughter quiet for quite a while, but now he was just openly laughing. He actually pulled over to the side of the road so he could laugh to his heart’s content without endangering their lives. He was laughing so hard, a tear was rolling down his face.

He looked so fucking pleased with himself, Stiles had to crack up. Then he had to laugh at his own gullibility _and_ stupidity, and at Derek, who was snorting for breath he was laughing so hard. Derek actually had to get out of the car and walk away for a bit to calm down, his shoulders still shaking with mirth for quite a while. 

Someday, Stiles would get him back for that one. He didn’t know when, or how, but Derek would pay somehow. Stiles cracked up again, in disbelief at himself. Durian. God, he was such an idiot.

Derek opened the car door and sat back down. He grinned. “Your face!”

“I can’t believe I fell for that one. I am such an idiot,” stiles admitted, as Derek started the car and pulled back onto the road.

“You are definitely not an idiot. You are just too tired and stressed to think logically.”

Stiles smiled at him. “You are such a jerk.”

Derek chuckled. “I’m sorry.” He reached for Stiles knee and gave it a squeeze. “I really am sorry.”

Stiles chortled. “Ts’all right. It _was_ funny.”

They smiled at each other. “Next,” said Stiles, going back to his post-visit notes. “4. Pack: Healthy, strong, plenty of young people and children.”

“Yes,” agreed Derek. “They do not have a dire need for an omega in their midst.”

“5. Territory: Gorgeous. That place is really beautiful. The ocean, the cliffs, the beaches. The woods. It’s amazing.”

“It is. A beautiful place to live, a great place to raise pups,” agreed Derek.

“6. Plan for a return visit: Nope. 7. Likelihood of a match: Big fat zero.”

Derek took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at him. “Really? Why? You two got along great! She really liked you. She got your jokes, she was happy you were asking all those questions about their salt production, she was interested in what you had to say. I thought you really liked her too!”

“I did, a lot. We had a lot in common. But I’m not her type. When you and I were first walking towards the house, she was checking you out. She was immediately attracted to you. It’s not until we got close enough for my pheromones to hit her that she even looked my way. Then you stopped existing in her eyes because of chemistry, but all things being equal, I wouldn’t have been her first choice. I guess that’s a bit of a turn off for me. I want someone who is attracted to me physically, not just to my pheromones. Tall and lanky might not be _everybody’s_ type, but it _is_ some people’s type. I’d like it to be my mate’s type, you know?”

“Hm. Yes. I can understand that.” Derek looked pensive.

“One down. Sixty-eight to go,” concluded Stiles. “Do you mind if I nap until we get home? I’m done in.”

“Go ahead. We are still more than two hours away. And you can take it easy tomorrow, our next visit is scheduled for Wednesday.”

“Thanks Derek.”

Durian. Stiles smiled to himself. Only in the heavy haze before he was asleep did he realize Derek had never answered his question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter lacked Oomf, I thought, and I've had it ready for months but kept trying to rewrite it about thirty times before just going back to the original, because I hate to have this story I love, and that is complete, stand there as a WIP forever because I'm obsessing. Sorry.


	26. Almost Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles second encounter with an unmated alpha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally not betaed. Probably filled with typos and errors. Please, point them out so I can correct them. So sorry.

That night, Stiles had to tell his pack all about the visit to the Song pack. He showed them the picture Derek had taken, and they all agreed that Lilith looked very cute, but even though she and Stiles stood close to each other, relaxed and comfortable, one could tell just from Stiles's body language that she was not “the one”.

“It sounds like it was a nice visit anyway,” said John, philosophically. “A good way to start, to get your feet wet, so to speak. Now you will know what to expect and you won’t have to go running in the middle of the night to calm your nerves.” He grinned mischievously at his son who accepted, once again, that it was hard to put anything past his dad.

“I would have been a nervous wreck too,” admitted Allison kindly even as Scott knocked shoulders with his with a teasing grin.

“Unless you object,” said John, “I arranged with Alpha Hale for you three to spend the day at the Hales’ tomorrow where you’ll be safe, so Derek can get a break. Take your bathing suits, it’s going to be a hot one. And, please, offer to help around. Don’t shame our pack by making yourselves a burden.”

The three teenagers looked at each other grinning and Scott said, “That sounds fine. We like it there.”

Stiles yawned and sighed. “I’m sorry guys. I’m off to bed. I’m wiped.” 

“Wanna watch the game?” John offered Derek, as the others cleared the table.

“No thanks. It was a long drive. I’ll go up, work out a bit and go to sleep early too, I think.”

“All right. Good night then.”

~o~

Stiles was on the verge of sleep, already breathing deep and slow when Derek entered the bedroom. He was vaguely aware of the enormous wolf standing next to his bed, looking down at him as he slipped fully under, never knowing how long Derek stood there, watching his features in repose, but it was perhaps because he had gone to sleep knowing Derek was in his wolf form that when his dream started, he was aware that it was all it was, a dream.

A dream of Derek, coming into his huge and comfy bed at Hale house in the early morning light, both of them freshly showered after a run, lying under the clean sheets, Derek on his side, looking at him with a smile, his head resting in his hand.  
A dream of Derek, lightly tracing his feature with the tip of his fingers, caressing down his arm all the way to his fingers, and bringing his hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles.   
A dream of Derek, cupping his cheek and leaning down for a kiss, gentle and soft until it wasn’t anymore.   
A dream of Stiles pulling him down on top of him, a hand at the back of his neck, as the kiss grew passionate and raw, as their bodies went from seeking closeness to seeking pleasure, from separateness to oneness, from pleasure to ecstasy, and then to loving and intimate touches in the unifying ebb of their rapture.   
A dream that filled Stiles’s heart with contentment as it faded to grey giving way to deep, dreamless, resting slumber.

~o~

They had a great day at the Hales. Cora and Angelique joined them, as well as Samuel, who felt that since he had just graduated from college, he deserved a nice vacation. They played Frisbee, swam in the nearby creek, and had an arousing four on four volleyball game after Pip joined them. What Stiles lacked in Speed and Agility, he made up in precision, his serves totally lethal.

Scott and Allison did spend a few hours helping in the nursery/preschool and after they left in the late afternoon, Stiles joined the kitchen staff to help prepare the pack’s dinner. It was Mexican food night, and he grated just about his own weight in Monterey Jack cheese for the tacos, enchiladas, burritos and chili rellenos. 

The whole pack usually ate together for Mexican night, and to see the amount of food it took to feed about two hundred werewolves was truly impressive, but none of the regular kitchen staff seemed ruffled. They were organized, efficient, and productive, yet chatted away, relaxed and friendly.

Alpha Hale, her children, brother and nephew were the only ones missing the common dinner that night, enjoying having Derek and Cora back, no doubt. 

Stiles sat with Gin and Ella, and Ella’s brother Clyde. Clara, who had showed the Stilinski pack their quarters that first day and had watched over the pups on the Flower moon joined them as well, with her husband Brian. Brian looked a lot like Peter physically, but turned out to be genial, funny, and open. He was Talia and Peter’s first cousin, and as close a relative to the previous Alpha as Talia herself.

“I never even thought I’d ever inherit the position of Alpha from our grand-dad. From a kid, all I wanted was to grow things. I run the green houses and plan the vegetable gardens. I’ve got my plants, I’ve got my Clara. What more could any sane man want?”

After dinner, Gin and Brian played chess while the others played Scrabble. Clara turned out to be a real contender. When Gin and Brian's game ended with a stale mate, they, Ella and Clyde played Gin Rummy while Stiles and Clara had a Scrabble show down. 

It was fun: she was really competitive, and both were very good. She won when she placed “oxygen” on a triple word at the end, when the board was already almost full. Stiles shook his head in disgust, and she did a little victory dance that he would have been proud off.

All six were in the middle of some ridiculous but funny card came called Alpha or “butt-head”, Stiles having ended the “Butt-head” three times in a row, when Derek came to their table. 

“Hey Derek!” greeted Brian.

“Gin, Ella, Clara, Clyde, Brian, how are you? Sorry to interrupt, but the Alpha wants to see Stiles for a moment.”

Stiles got up and rubbed his hand on one of Brian’s shoulders. “Here, I’m passing all my bad luck and losing cooties to you!” he said, laughing.

“It’s not bad luck, Stiles, you just suck!” replied Brian.

“Not so! Next time I’ll be the Alpha and you will have to do my bidding and obey my every whim!” They all laughed at him, the eye rolls and snorts showing exactly what they thought of the likelihood of that happening.

He was still chuckling as he walked away with Derek. 

“It’s a good thing you are spending some time with Clara,” Derek said as they left the dining room.

“It is? Why?”

“She and Brian have been mated seven years, and she loves children. She volunteers with the pups any time she can, but she has yet to have a productive heat. If Lydia is right, being around you might make a difference.”

“Oh. Well, it can’t hurt, can it? And I really like them. She works in admin, right?”

“She does.”

“Well, I learned how to file at dad’s office, and do other small office work. I’ll make sure to hang out with her any time I can.”

Derek smiled at him, and Stiles smiled back. “So, what does your mom want?”

Derek shrugged. “Not sure.”

At the Alpha’s, Talia and Joshua were sitting at the large kitchen table reading the newspaper while Samuel, Nora, and a teenager Stiles didn’t know were battling it out at some video game. The rest of the family was nowhere to be seen.

“Ah! Omega Stilinski!” said Talia. “Thanks for joining us.”

“Please, Alpha Hale, call me Stiles.”

She smiled. “Well, Stiles. Derek tells me you are driving to Nappa Valley, tomorrow, to visit young Alpha Giovanni Del Sotto?”

“We are. I’m actually curious to meet him. He’s the one who sent me the sports car, “no strings attached”, the one my dad made me send back. It turns out that we must be pretty compatible too, so that’s kind of exciting.”

“The Del Sotto pack is extraordinary wealthy, explained Talia. “Their territory includes half of the Valley, where some of the best California wines are produced. I understand their pack house is magnificent. Their many wineries are the reason why I asked you to come. One of our betas, Justin, came to speak to me earlier this year about where he wanted to go next summer, the last summer before his sorting. Justin?”

“Alpha?” said the teenager who had been playing with Nora and Samuel.

“Come meet om… Stiles.”

Aside from being in extraordinary shape, like all the members of the Hale pack, Justin did not particularly look like the Hales. Stiles remembered him vaguely from school. He was of medium height, blond with blue eyes, with an easy smile. He extended his hand to Stiles, who shook it. “Stiles, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Well all right, Justin," said Talia, smiling. "Sit down and make your case.” 

Justin blushed a little, but took a breath and sat down across from Stiles. 

“I had to write a paper about some type of an industry in Economics, this year, and we’d been studying alcoholic fermentation in Chemistry, so I decided to write about the business side of winemaking. I got really invested in it, and in the winemaking process itself. It’s just fascinating, and I really would like to study oenology later on. Anyway. I was hoping to spend my summer in a winery. I was thinking somewhere in Oregon, where my mom’s pack lives. Their pack is allied to some wine producing packs, but what I’d really, really love would be to go to one of few California wine producing packs. The Hale pack is not allied to any of them directly, but I was hoping maybe Alpha Talia could contact someone, even though there are issues…”

Talia put her hand on his and took over. “You see, if I request that a pack take in one of our own for the summer as a favor, it will be expected for us to reciprocate. A lot of our pack’s influence and power rests on the Hale pack’s mystique. It is important, so that we are better able to fulfill our mandate of protection of the Beacon township that we keep that mystique alive. Few outsider know how large our pack is, how we train, or that there is a chink in our Left Hand’s armor, namely his love for Pip. We usually only send our teenagers to packs we are _very_ strongly tied to. The Del Sotto pack is not one of them. I have been weighing the consequences of contacting them for a while, but then Derek mentioned Giovanni Del Sotto was the next non mated alpha you were visiting, so…” she explained.

“Derek has already made clear to me that you were not the type of person to take advantage of your being an omega,” Justin hurried to clarify. “I’d never ask you to do that, but I thought, if you had a chance, if it came up and you felt OK with it, perhaps you could put in a good word for me?” He added earnestly, “I’d work hard, and make myself as useful as possible to their pack, so they would not regret taking me in, you can be sure of that. I’d try as hard as I could to make them feel they were glad to have me. And that way, Alpha Hale would not be obligated to them, you see?”

Justin was sweet, hopeful, but not pushy, intimidated by his Alpha and the omega, but still determine to make his case. This was obvious how much he wanted this. 

“I can’t make you any promises, Justin. It’s hard to ask for a favor when you know the person you are asking won’t say no, especially if it raises expectations you might not be able to fulfill. But I promise you that if I can bring up your desire to work for their winery next summer, I’ll definitely do so. I think they would be stupid not to take in someone as motivated as you are to make it worth their while. I hope I get a chance to help.”

Justin’s smile was huge. “Don’t worry, I’ll understand if you can’t make it happen, but thanks for hearing me out.”

Stiles smiled back.

“Alpha Hale,” said Justin respectfully, “Thanks for remembering my request, and introducing me to omega Stilinski.”

“I did not take your request for my intervention lightly, Justin. It has been on my mind. I have not yet made a decision on the matter. If omega Stilinski is unable to help, I will continue considering our options. You are a Hale beta, as important to me as any other pack member, and your well being is my responsibility. Never forget that.”

“I don’t, Alpha. I am proud to be a Hale. I wouldn’t want to be in any other pack.”

“I’m glad. Good night, Justin.”

“Good night Alpha, good night, everyone. See you later.”

“I’ll walk you home,” said Samuel, getting up. “It’s Nora’s bedtime, anyway.”

“Is it already, Mommy?” asked Nora, pleadingly.

“Past your bedtime, actually. PJ’s and tooth brushing, Sweetie. I’ll be in in a minute for your hug and kiss.”

Nora grumbled on her way out. 

“I caaaan heaeaeaeaear you!” Talia sang song to her daughter.

“I’m awaaaaare!” Nora sang song back, as Joshua chuckled. “She really would make a great Alpha,” he said to his wife.

“I know,” she answered whistfully. It was obviously not the first time they had that conversation. Talia shrugged. “She’ll find a place for her talents in the pack, I’m sure.”

“Of course she will,” answered her husband reassuringly. “Let’s go to bed, shall we? Good night, boys.”

“Good night!” “Good night Mom. Good night, Dad.”

“Shall I walk you back to your quarters?” asked Derek, once they were alone.

“Sure.” They headed out. “What time are we off tomorrow?” asked Stiles.

“It will be about a two-hour drive. We can run at 6:30, and leave around eight. Samuel and Patrick want to run with us. Prepare for the worst!”

“What do you mean?”

“We are stupidly competitive when Laura is not there to keep us in line. We know you can’t keep up, so we’ll curb ourselves, but it’s probably still going to be a challenge.”

They stopped at the Stilinski’s door. 

Stiles shrugged. “You could run with just them, if you wanted. I’m sure I could join someone else. There are so many of you in the woods in the morning.”

“Nah. They want to see what you are capable of. Rumi told everyone I’d been remiss in teaching you self-defense. I suspect Patrick is planning some kind of training regimen for you, truthfully.”

“Hm. I’m not sure if I’m excited or horrified at the idea, considering he starts to put your pups through the ringer at age ten.”

“Be afraid. Be _very_ afraid,” advised Derek, seriously. “Patrick puts on a good show, but the truth is, he is relentless, a vicious taskmaster. He has made grown men cry, deaf to their plea for merci. I actually believe he is a bit of a sadist. I don’t envy you.”

“Gee, Derek, thanks!” Stiles griped. “That was a great pep talk.”

“I was only stating the truth,” said Derek, his smirk telling otherwise. “Although,” he added, grinning, “he might give _you_ a break. After all, who could resist your wonderful Durian scent?”

“Oh, my god!” Stiles punched his shoulder. “You get me going _every_ time!” He started pummeling Derek’s chest for good measure. “And you’re doing it more and more!” He stopped hitting Derek, who was only laughing at his attempt to actually cause a werewolf any kind of pain. 

Stiles narrowed his eyes, announcing seriously, “I’m never trusting anything you say ever again.”

Derek grinned. “Of course you will. You are incredibly gullible, I have a great poker face, and you trust me with your life.”

“I’m not usually that gullible,” mumbled Stiles, annoyed but conceding the point.

“Should I stop teasing you?” asked Derek, frowning, suddenly serious. “I will, if it’s not funny anymore.”

“Nah,” said Stiles, smiling. “I just have to stop taking you so seriously. You’d think I’d have learned by now.” He made a face. “Sorry I hit you.”

“Is that what you were doing? I thought you were trying to tickle me. Maybe you need that training more than I thought.”

Stiles stuck his tongue out at him. “Good night, you big jerk.”

“See you tomorrow, Sucker.”

They were both chuckling as Stiles closed the door.

~o~

Nappa Valley had to be one of the most beautiful places Stiles had ever seen. He had slept for the first hour and a half of the drive, exhausted from racing with the three Hale brothers who had ran him into the ground, but Derek had shaken him awake so he wouldn’t miss the views on the last half hour of the trip.

They made their way between large swatches of vineyards, under a deep blue sky, with green hills in the background.

When the main Del Sotto pack house appeared, it looked like an antique Italian palace, white stone against the blue sky, surrounded by manicured garden and fountains. A smiling old man directed them to park in an opulent garage which contained several beautiful sports car, one of which Stiles recognized as a Ferrari, and including the very nice BMW Z4 roadster which licence-plates read STILES, that had sadly only graced the Stilinski’s driveway for a matter of hours. 

The old man greeted them warmly, introduced himself as Paolo Del Sotto, the Alpha’s great uncle, and offered to walk them the rest of the way to the palace. “Go ahead,” said Derek. “I’m right behind you.”

Stiles hesitated for a second, but reasoning the Derek would never put him in danger, complied and started walking with the old man who pointed to the different vineyards parcels, which all had names, and explained what type of grape was growing in each, and what type of wine they each produced. Within a few minutes, Derek the wolf caught up with them, getting close enough to Stiles for Stiles's arm to rest naturally on the wolf's furry shoulders.

“Oh! Dear god,” exclaimed the old man, placing both his hands over his heart and unconsciously putting some distance between himself and Stiles. He swallowed hard. “This would be the young Hale alpha, I presume?” His smile was a bit uncertain. “And I thought he looked quite threatening as a human escort. No wonder you only need the one bodyguard.”

As mild as Derek always endeavored to look when he was at school with Stiles, he certainly was making no such effort at the moment. His eyes glowed red and his whole body projected his readiness to attack. Stiles figured he was making a point, and would mellow out once everyone was well aware of the danger he represented. He wondered for a moment why Derek had chosen to be a wolf during this visit.

Then he remembered mentioning how Lilith had been distracted by Derek’s presence at first, which Stiles had interpreted as attraction, and how Derek had had to make conversation with the Song pack’s Left Hand all afternoon to give he and Lilith a modicum of privacy. 

By being a wolf, if he took Giovanni’s attention from Stiles, it could not be interpreted as attraction, but merely as curiosity, and it would later be easier for Giovanni to forget his presence, so as not to influence his and Stiles interactions. Never mind that it would save Derek the torture of having to socialize with someone…

As they approached the house, a young man came bounding down the front steps.

“Stiles! Welcome! I’m Giovanni.”

Well, _he_ was gorgeous. Short dark curly hair, expressive dark eyes, a beautiful smile that showed perfect white teeth and facial feature that would have made him eligible to be a male model if his career as a winemaking Alpha didn’t work out. He wore well fitted jeans that showed off long well muscled legs, a white button down shirt rolled up to his elbow that contrasted nicely with his natural tan, and his torso was in the shape of a Dorito.

The rather nice thing was that he was looking Stiles up and down with obvious appreciation and that the first words to escape his mouth were, “Wow, you’re even more gorgeous in person,” after which he visibly blushed and confessed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. My brain to mouth filter is not all that reliable.”

Stiles laughed. “It could have been worse. You could have said “What an ugly git!””

Giovanni burst out laughing and admitted, “Yeah, that would definitely have been worse.”

Stiles smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.” He gave Derek a friendly tap on the shoulder and added, “This is alpha Derek Hale, my friend and bodyguard.”

“Oh, wow! Uh, hello. I can’t believe I didn’t notice you there. Forgive my rudeness, Derek Hale, alpha of the Hale pack. You are welcome in Del Sotto territory for the day. Thank you for keeping Stiles safe, and please, thank your Alpha for me for giving him her pack’s protection. Without it, he would not have been free to visit here, and give me a chance to hopefully sweep him off his feet. By the way, you are really big and scary. Please don’t eat me.”

Stiles cracked up, and Derek huffed, toning down his looks by letting his eyes return to their natural color and relaxing his stance, going as far as sweeping his tail back and forth a couple of times.

“Oookay, then. Well Stiles,” asked Giovanni, inviting them to come with a sweeping gesture and starting back up the stairs, “what do you know about wine?” 

“Pathetically little. I’ve never even tasted any: three out of five of our pack members are humans, and humans don’t react well to alcohol. It crosses our blood-brain barrier and is also hard on our livers.”

“Oh, right! I kind of knew that. Well, there goes my chances to seduce you with the amazing bouquet of some of our products!”

‘I still would be interested in you showing me some of the wine making process. A friend of mine wrote a paper in sophomore economics this year on oenologie and the wine industry, and it sounded really fascinating. He was really jealous when he heard I was coming here today. This would be like his dream come true.”

“Really? If he was a sophomore this year, next summer will be his last before sorting, right? Do you think he would like to spend it here? We can always use extra hands in the summers.”

“I’m sure he would love it, are you kidding?”

“Great. You can leave his name and contacts with Paolo later. It will be nice to host a kid who is excited about what we do. We mostly deal with teenagers whose packs own orange groves, or grow almonds, because they are the packs we are allied with, and to them, it’s just more of the same.”

He smiled winningly at Stiles. “You may not be able to drink wine, but I think you’ll still be blown away by our cellar. My great grandfather was very proud of our Venetian heritage, and definitely went a bit over the top. Let me give you a tour, and then we can have lunch. What do you think?”

“Sounds good. You can tell me more about what your life is like as the Alpha here at the same time. I saw a map of your territory, your pack must be enormous!”

The cellar was amazing, with antique roman tiling, columns and magnificent art, and although Giovanni knew everything there was to know about wine making, his life actually revolved more around keeping a pack over three hundred strong running smoothly. He joked that he had three seconds, his sister Desiree who ran the business side of the wineries, and his cousin Joachin, who was the cave master and his aunt Gina, the actual wine maker. 

His Left Hand Roberto took care of what was needed to keep their valuable territory safe. Giovanni cared for the pack, their well being and happiness.

He talked with every one they met, on a personal level, obviously well acquainted with their lives, their worries and their hopes and goals for the future. They teased him with real affection, enough that Stiles became well aware of how attractive Giovanni had thought him long before he’d ever been influenced by his pheromones.

Giovanni’s smile was infectious, and he asked Stiles questions, showing himself to be a great listener, and although he obviously took his job seriously, he had a goofy, funny side.

He hid behind a cask at one point, and popped up, making Stiles jump, then joked that it was a shame Stiles had not fallen in because that particular batch lacked “body”.

All along, Giovanni was extremely solicitous, ready to run up and get Stiles a sweater when he shivered as they first entered the cellar, blaming himself for his thoughtlessness and offering him some refreshments when he remembered how long the drive had been, suggesting a break to rest when Stiles tripped on his own feet. It was all spontaneous and genuine, as if nothing could please him more than catering to Stiles's every need. It seem a bit much, but Stiles had to admit it was also nice to be the center of so much attention. 

After the tour, Giovanni asked if it would be all right if they had lunch with his sister Desiree, his aunt Gina and great uncle Paolo. The unmated alphas were only given a twenty-four hour warning before the omega's visit, and although Giovanni had freed himself as much as possible, there still was pack matters to address. 

Also, his family was evidently very important to him, and Desiree was obviously his best friend and confidante as well as his sister. It was a fun and delicious meal.

Again, Giovanni seemed to want everything to be as perfect as possible for Stiles. It was not overbearing, he was just incredibly attentive. As they were having dessert, Giovanni’s cell phone rang. He apologized and took the call in the next room, then returned and explained.

“It’s one of our pups, Sandra. She only eight, and she fell on the playground and broke her arm.” His worry for the child was written all over his face. “Her Healing is only a two, she’ll have to wear a cast. Her parents are both working in one of our vineyards in Bogeda. It will be over an hour before they can get back. The nurse practitioner needs me to be with her while she works.” He explained sheepishly, “Their Alpha is the next best thing to Mom and Dad when they get hurt. I am sorry, but I’ll have to stay with her until they are back.”

He crouched and looked worriedly at Stiles. “It can’t be helped. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Stiles smiled at him and shook is head. “Giovani! There will be nothing for you to make up! You’re the Alpha! You are needed! Go do your thing.”

“You’re not upset?” Giovanni asked, hesitating.

“Of course not.” How could Stiles be upset, when all it showed was what a great Alpha Giovanni was. 

“I’ll make Stiles some espresso in my rooms,” said Desiree. “We’ll wait for you there.”

“Thanks, Sis.” He ran out, in a hurry to get to the hospital wing and offer support to his little pack member. Stiles watched him leave the room and joked to himself, “Hate to see him go, love to watch him leave.” Giovanni had a very nice ass.

“Come along,” said Desiree, smiling. “I have the best view of the garden. Did you enjoy your meal, Derek?” 

She had been the only one calling Derek by his first name. After all, they held equivalent positions in their family’s pack. Derek had been served a huge chunk of raw sirloin in a serving plate matching the dishes and bottled water in a crystal salad bowl deposited on a dinner napkin that matched the table linens.

Derek gave her a wolfish grin and rubbed his side on her leg. She laughed and petted his fur. “My mother could turn to an Italian wolf. It was impressive, but she would have looked like a scrawny mutt next to you.” Stiles rather thought Derek-wolf preened a little.

Desiree’s chambers were large and appointed in Danish modern furniture. “I got tired of Italian antiques,” she explained. Her view of the manicured gardens was spectacular indeed, and her walls were covered with family pictures. 

There was a large portrait above her fire place, one of the whole clan, standing in front of the entrance to the cellar, taken when Giovanni must have been sixteen or so, with their parents and grandparents. 

Desiree explained with a smile, “Nana was Alpha, then. Dad was her second. Papa, her mate, was human. He died in an accident, six years ago next March, and she only lived a couple a months after that. Mom and Dad decided they did not want the responsibility of the pack. Dad loved being his mother’s second, but could not see himself as an Alpha. They went to live with my mother’s pack, in Mandocino. Both Giovanni and I were excited to take over. We have degrees in oenology and masters of business both, but he also spent an extra year getting a minor in pack psychology. There were changes we wanted to implement, new techniques to try. We were ready.”

Stiles noted a young man standing next to Giovanni on the family picture, and she explained. “That’s Lorenzo. He was Giovanni’s boyfriend. He was like another brother to me. He’s been out of the picture for four years now,” she added, a bit bitterly.

Stiles noted that, until four years ago, there was not a picture of Giovanni without him, both looking very much in love. Stiles could not fail to note that Lorenzo had been tall and lean, with large eyes and a gererous mouth, a chock of untamed hair, pale complexion with few moles on his face. Even with his darker hair and blue eyes, Lorenzo could have easily passed for Stiles’s close relative, his brother even.

Desiree grinned a bit apologetically. “My brother has a type, I guess.”

“It looks like they were together for years,” Stiles observe. “What happened, if I may ask?”

She hesitated and finally shrugged. “They were together for seven years, long before they Sorted. Lorenzo was very high maintenance. He liked having the best of everything, and being Giovanni’s center of attention. It was a perfect match: Giovanni expresses his affection by giving him gifts, compliments. He took pride in satisfying Lorenzo's every whim, in fulfilling his smallest wishes, in knowing what Lorenzo would want before he even knew himself. You see, Giovanni is a giver, by nature. His thoughtfulness is what makes him such a wonderful and beloved Alpha.”

She sighed. “Five years ago, Giovanni became the Alpha of the Del Sotto pack. At first, Lorenzo was immensely proud of him. But with the role came new responsibilities and commitments, and Lorenzo… He did not take well to being second in Giovanni’s attention. After the first excitement had died down, when he realized what Giovanni having a pack to care for really meant, he became petty, demanding, capricious. Giovanni tried so hard, but nothing he did for Lorenzo was ever enough and Lorenzo resented everything and everyone who took Giovanni’s attention away. He started taking extravagant vacations alone, to punish Giovanni by his absence, making him miserable, and when that did not work, he had an affair with the second son of an oil magnate from a pack in Texas, who had no responsibilities and money to burn, to make Giovanni jealous.”

Her face showed how painful that time must have been for all of them. “Lorenzo came back and gave Giovanni an ultimatum. Things were to go back the way they used to be, or he would leave him for his new rich boyfriend, who could take care of him the way he felt he deserved. Giovanni was terribly hurt, and torn. He truly loved Lorenzo, and seriously considered passing the Alpha power to me, even though we both know I would not be half the Alpha he is. In the end, his loyalty to our pack won, and with a last tantrum, Lorenzo left, slamming the door behind him, taking Giovanni’s favorite car, and he never came back.”

She shook her head. “Giovanni has not looked at another man since. After a year, we tried to set him up several times, but we gave up. He was just not ready, not interested. I was afraid he’d never get over Lorenzo.” She grinned at Stiles. “Then he saw your picture in the paper and it all changed. He just had to meet you. He looked like a kicked puppy when the car he had sent you came back, but laughed and glowed when you mentioned it in your speech. I would not be surprised if his was the first application filed on your web site, and he has been walking on air since yesterday, when we got told you were coming.”

After Giovanni returned, crisis over, he apologized for abandoning Stiles again, and offered to do whatever Stiles felt like doing for the rest of the day. They started by playing video games, and Giovanni trounced Stiles at Mariokart, using the same tricks Stiles usually used on Scott. It was awesome. He took Stiles to the stables, and they went for a slow ride through the vines, enjoying the sunny afternoon.

He showed him how to remove some of the small green grapes from the bunches, and explained why it was done. They had an impromptu snack of Doritos, sitting under a tree, and Giovanni sneakily whipped out a can of Cheese Whiz from his back pack, making Stiles promise not to tell Desiree as she thought it was food for heathens. Stiles and Giovanni, of course, agreed she was the heathen, because Cheese Whiz is obviously the food of the gods, along with curly fries.

They just had a great time, and Stiles’s could feel himself respond to the warmth in Giovanni’s eyes. It was a bit overwhelming, the way Giovanni always tried to anticipate his every desires, but one could tell it was not something he did, just the kind of person he was.

It was tough to say goodbye. It was obvious Giovanni would have loved for Stiles to stay longer, heck, to stay forever, and Stiles could not deny he was definitely attracted to the Alpha. After they reluctantly parted ways, Paolo walked the visitors back to the garage. Derek ran ahead, and Stiles used that time to give the old man Justin’s name, e-mail address and phone number. Paolo was obviously looking forward to having an eager young student, and Stiles was thrilled for Justin.

He also got a number from Paolo, one which Stiles had to do some fast-talking to convincing him to part with, and that the old man only gave with great reluctance.

Back in the car, Stiles smiled happily at Derek, who smiles back. He took out Giovanni Del Sotto’s file. He sighed. “Here we go,” he said. “1. Personality: Totally awesome. Kind, thoughtful, funny, warm, generous. What do you think, Derek?

“The best kind of Alpha. A truly good man.”

“Yep,” agreed Stiles. “2. Looks: Tall, dark, handsome, built, great smile. Yeah. 10, would highly recommend. Did you notice the five o’clock shadow? I think his beard grows as fast as yours. I definitely have something for five o’clock shadows,” Stiles added dreamily.

He didn’t notice Derek’s raised eyebrow, but wrote down Derek's comments when the alpha added. “Great shoulder to waist ratio, and nice symmetrical musculature.”

“3. Scent? I liked that he didn’t wear cologne. He just smelled clean, to me. What did your wolf nose think?”

“Sun warmed firewood, hints of lime. Very nice, masculine scent.”

“4. Pack: Large, happy, strong.”

“Yes. They could use more pups, but a lot of their young people are of marriage or mating age, so it should take care of itself. The pack is healthy and content. All the members of the Del Sotto pack are incredibly wealthy. They work hard, although it seems if a couple has more than one pup, one can afford to stay home. Some pursue personal interests. Joachin’s wife is a potter and an artist. They have large living quarters, expensive cars, very nice clothes.”

Stiles nodded in agreement. “5. “Territory: Huge, Beautiful, wealth producing?”

“These vineyards are a gold mine. And it’s beautiful.”

“Ah. 6: Plan for a return visit: Well, it all depends, doesn’t it?” said Stiles, dialing the number he’d gotten from Paolo on his phone, and putting it on speaker.

Derek frowned questioningly at him, but already the call was being answered.

“Hello?”

“May I speak to Lorenzo Gatti?”

“This is Lorenzo. May I ask who is calling?”

“Uh, My name is Stiles Stilinski and…”

“You are the omega, looking for your mate. Can’t be why you called, I’m a beta. Oh. You want to ask about Giovanni, don’t you. You should definitely meet him. You will never find a better man, or one more deserving of happiness.”

“I have met him. I spent the day with him. I agree with you.”

After a moment of silence, Lorenzo asked, “Then why call me?”

“Well, you see, according to Desiree, Giovanni was not ready to meet someone new. She thought he would never get over you. Then he saw me, and wanted to meet me. A lot of unmated alphas want to meet me: I’m an omega, a chance at a mate. But it’s pretty obvious that it is definitely not why Giovanni wanted to meet me. He could not care less than I am an omega. He just finds me very attractive. Any idea why?”

Lorenzo was quiet again for a while, then finally, he admitted, “You and I, we look alike. We even move alike, I think. I am not very graceful, a bit uncoordinated, really. I noticed a lot of similarities between us when you spoke on television.”

“Are you still with the man you left Giovanni for?”

“Yes. He has never been but kind and generous towards me.”

“Are you happy?”

“…I want for nothing.”

Stiles smiled. “How soon after you slammed that door did you regret it?”

Lorenzo let out a disparaging laugh. “Before I even got into the car. But I was stupid, and proud, and self centered. I thought Giovanni would come after me.” He added quietly. “I learned a lot since then. The difference between having what you want and wanting what you have, between material wealth and loving kindness, and between being grateful and being in love.” He cleared his throat. “Take care of him, if anyone deserves you, he does.”

“Yeah, I think I agree. But it’s not me he _wants_. He told me I smell like leather and santal wood. I wonder why.”

“I wear Santal 33, by Le Labo. I use to ride the horses everyday, and always wore a leather jacket. Do you think…” His voice was filled with hope.

“Giovanni is a wonderful Alpha. The well being of his pack is and always will have to be his highest priority. But his heart is yours, and has always been. If you can respect the man he is, and learn to support him in his role, go home, Lorenzo. Go home, and take care of him, and be the man he deserves.”

They could hear him sniffle and laugh at the same time. “I love him so much. I’ve missed him so much. I’d give anything, anything…”

“Dude, you just need to get in your car and drive, and when you get there, just tell him exactly what you told me. I doubt he’ll ever think of me again.”

Lorenzo sniffled and chuckled. “It’s _his_ car.”

“About time you returned it, I think.”

After Stiles hung up, he and Derek drove in silence for a while, Stiles watching in the side mirror as the last of the vineyards disappeared into the sunset. After a while, he opened the file again. “So, 6. Plan for return visit: No. 7. Likelihood of a match: None.” He sighed and closed the file.

“You really liked him,” observed Derek.

“It would have been easy to fall in love with him,” admitted Stiles. He sighed. “But he wasn’t perfect.”

“And _why_ was he not perfect?” asked Derek in disbelief.

_”Because he wasn’t you”_ almost escaped Stiles mouth before he held it back. “Giovanni had me confused with someone else,” he said instead, no less truthfully.

Derek nodded in acknowledgement.

“I wish my dad had let me keep that damn car,” Stiles complained. 

They both cracked up.

TBC


	27. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, Stiles has been non mated alpha who were promising as potential mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, more tonight. My computer is giving me trouble, Word crashed twice because the original chapter 27 was over 12000 words. (Yes, I am adding to it after beta, AGAIN. I can't help myself. Sorry.) I actually lost a couple of paragraphs which always depresses me to no end. So I'm cutting it in 3, using logical places to break.

Derek had just accelerated away from the magnificent Ferndale Pack wood loge in a spray of gravel when both he and Stiles burst out laughing. Stiles reached for Ruby Ferndale’s file, and jumping ahead to number 2 said, “So. Hot like the sun, amirite?”

In response, Derek wet his index finger and pretended to press it to something in mid-air, saying, “Tchhhhhhhhhh.”

“No kidding,” approved Stiles. “And her scent?”

Derek closed his eyes and sighed. “Good. So, so good…”

“Yeah, I kind of noted you spent a lot of time downwind from her…”

Derek laughed, completely unrepentant. They cracked up again.

“Aaaaaniway. “1. Personality:" said Stiles, now taking things in order again. "Uh… Strong. Charming.”

“I think you mean: “Dominant” and “Manipulative”,” corrected Derek.

“I was just trying to be nice,” explained Stiles.

Derek rolled his eyes.

“4. Pack: Hm. Hey, did you even see any women there?”

“In the kitchen, I think. And on the hill, transplanting saplings, maybe?”

Stiles shook his head. “She’s got everyone of the guys completely under her thumb. It’s like a harem over there.”

“The way she amps up the tension, constantly flaunting her sexuality and makes them compete for her attention…” said Derek, making a face. “Not good.”

“Not good at all. If I picked her, how long do you think it would be before I ended up with a knife between the ribs from one of her jilted lover wannabe?”

“I’d give you three weeks. Four, tops. And it would be an axe in the back. They are loggers, remember?”

“Oh, my god. It might even be a chain saw…” They laughed again.

“5. Territory: Magnificent. I’ll never forget our first sight of these redwoods.”

“You’ll never forget the sight of the trees, or the sight of Ruby demonstrating how to reach the upper branches?”

“Was she climbing that rope, or pole dancing? I’m not sure…” wondered Stiles.

“The shorts were very nice,” commented Derek, dreamily.

“Nice and oh, so tight,” agreed Stiles. “Good color match with the lace bra under the cropped shirt, too.”

“Uh-huh…”

They cracked up again. 

“Plan for return visit: I’d actually love to go back with my pack, and show them the Sequoias, but otherwise, no. I value my life. And 7. Likelihood of a match: Minus what? Ten, twenty?”

“I can’t believe she rated a visit from her questionnaire, actually. What do you two have in common?”

“Hey! I look pretty damn good in tight shorts, I'll let you know,” protested Stiles.

“True,” Derek admitted playfully. “And you smell even better than she does.”

“And we share that blinding sex appeal thingy, that wild animal magnetism…”

Derek started laughing, but after Stiles glared at him, he nodded and said, “Uh, yeah! Yeah, right! Sure you do. Aaaabsolutely.” He grinned.

“You bet your furry werewolf ass, we do,” affirmed Stiles, nodding to himself, choosing to completely ignore the sarcasm. They both cracked up again.

Then Stiles sighed, a little wistfully. “Candidate number eight bites the dust,” he concluded.

Derek reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “It will happen, you’ll see.”

Stiles put on a brave face and smiled. “Of course it will.” 

He watched Derek’s profile, the defined muscles of his arms as he held the wheel and his five o’clock shadow. His heart aching a little, he pushed his nascent thoughts away. 

His subconscious had locked on Derek as the source of his fantasies, and he was haunted by erotic dreams about him every damn night. He’d accepted it. Derek was the most attractive person he knew, it was kind of inevitable.

It was just hard not to let the residual feelings spill into their daily interactions. He knew intellectually Derek could not be whom his heart sought. Derek was cleaved, mated, not even a possibility. Stiles had to meet each unmated alpha they visited with an open mind, ready to get that “Wow! Where have you been all my life?” reaction he knew he was bound to have to one of them. 

It was just easiest said than done. 

Anyway. Tomorrow they were heading east, to Nevada, to the territory of the farthest pack they would visit. 

Nevada was divided among only ten packs, each with ridiculously large territories. The Humbolt pack’s covered a large chunk of the center of the state, yet had only twenty-eight members. To the east, it bordered the Lake Tahoe township, with its university. 

The Humbolt pack’s main pack house was in the mountains, near Toiyabe peak, but the meeting would be held at their more western winter house, not too far east from their border with the township preserve, on the western edge of Walker lake.

It would be close to a four-hour drive, and they were leaving at six-thirty in the morning. They had decided to have two of their farthest trips back to back, to the Ferdales and to Nevada, and then to take two days off before the Buck moon, and three days off after. They needed a break, or at least Stiles did. Derek never complained, just going along with whatever schedule Stiles wanted.

 

For the first time in a while, Stiles fell asleep in the car. He really wished he hadn’t when Derek shook him out of a very vivid sex dream the alpha had no way to know he was staring in.

“Sorry,” said Derek, apparently completely unruffled. “I didn’t think you’d want to… catch that squirrel while sleeping in the car.”

“Thanks,” answered Stiles, trying his best to overcome his mortification as his body calmed down. “Uh, how much farther?”

“Only about twenty minutes, you were asleep for quite a while. The countryside will be really different tomorrow. Nevada is mostly desert. It’s beautiful too, just in a very different way.”

“Oh,” said Stiles, grateful to be talking about something so neutral. “I thought we were meeting at a lake.”

“We are, but it’s river fed, from the mountains. It’s pretty much in the middle of miles of scattered shrubs and bunches of grass on naked gravel and sand.”

“What does the pack live on, then?”

“They mine copper, silver and gold, like most of the packs in Nevada. They have strong alliances with agricultural packs, which then trade with places like our township, were we need the metals for manufacturing.”

“Oh. It must be weird to be dependant on others for your basic survival needs.”

“They are not, really. All the packs in Nevada are small. They have water, sun and land. They could be totally self-sustaining if need be. It’s just that the metals are in such high demands, economically, it makes much more sense for them to mine. They are quite wealthy.”

“I see.” 

Stiles reached for the file of the non-mated alpha he would be meeting the next day. He read out loud, “Jack Humbold, 27. Agewise, he’s almost too old. He only made the cut by a couple of weeks. Oh, he is his pack’s Alpha as well.” It would be the third pack Alpha Stiles would meet, with Giovanni and Ruby. 

Stiles chuckled. “Listen to Deaton and Lydia’s little spiel on him: _An overachieving nerd, like you. Has two PhD’s, one in metallurgy, the other in child psychology. Loves Star Wars and admits to share your annoying habit of commenting out loud during movies. Thinks Reese’s peanut butter cups are a food group._ ”

“Well, that sounds very promising,” Derek commented.

Stiles laughed. “How pathetic is it that you are not being even a little sarcastic? _And_ that I totally agree with you?”

~o~

They went home to Stilinski house that night, and Stiles was thrilled to find all his friends there. They all had pizza together, after which John, Melissa and Derek went up to bed. Unlike Stiles, who’d had a three-hour nap that afternoon and could snooze for almost four hours in the morning, Derek had to drive.

It was great catching up. Danny and Mason were ridiculously cute together. Mason was incredibly sweet (and very cute), interested in everything, the best listener ever. Poor Erica had the worst morning sickness, and even gagged at the mention of chocolate, which she usually loved. Allison was horrified to have gained eight pounds already, and kissed both Stiles and Mason when they both honestly said they couldn’t even tell. As expected, Lydia took to pregnancy like a fish to water, and just glowed.

Stiles had all of them in stitches describing his and Derek’s visit to Ruby that day. He was glad he had the Polaroid one of the loggers had taken of her and Stiles during their visit in the forest to back up his tale, because they all refused to believe he was not exaggerating when he described her outfit for her tree climbing demo. Seeing it, they howled with laughter.

“You look like a chicken forced to pose for a picture next to a hungry fox!”

“She does look like she wants to eat him up!”

“Oh, my god! I can’t believe you weren’t kidding about the shorts!”

“It’s Lara Croft meets Bambi.”

“Bambi? Bambi!” Stiles cried, aghast. “Boyd, I don’t like you anymore.”

“That’s a really big tree,” remarked Liam.

“The trees were unbelievably gorgeous,” agreed Stiles. “Here, I took some pictures with my phone. I got wolf-Derek in there to give you an idea of how big they really are.”

“Holly crap. These are big trees.”

“Wow!”

“Does Derek always accompany you in his wolf form?” asked Lydia, curious.

“It saves him having to talk to anyone,” answered Stiles, smirking.

“He really is antisocial, isn’t he?” remarked Danny.

“Nah. He just hates everybody.” Stiles chuckled, as the others looked at him questioningly. 

“Private joke,” he said, waving it off. 

They ended up watching “Lara Croft, Tomb Raider” with Angelina Jolie, although they all agreed Ruby was actually way hotter than the actress. 

After they all left, Scott and Stiles sat at opposite ends of the couch, Allison’s head on Scott’s lap and her feet on Stiles.

“How are you doing really, Bro,” asked Scott.

Stiles sighed. “I’m OK. It’s all kind of weird, but really, everything has been weird since I sorted.” He admitted, “It would be a lot harder if I didn’t have Derek with me.”

Noticing Scott’s surprised expression, he added, “He only lets you see “Derek the future Hale Left Hand”. I get to see another side of him. He is my closest friend outside of you guys.”

“Derek-the-wolf,” said Allison. “I mean, I think I can see how different he could be as a friend in Derek-the-wolf. I’m glad he’s there for you.”

“We’re there for you too, you know that, right?” said Scott. “Whatever you need, you just have to ask.”

Stiles sighed. “I need to spend a day beating your ass at videogames and eating our weight in junk food, man. I’m calling dibs on the day before the full moon. We can pretend to go back in time like, two years.”

“Hey!” Allison objected, kicking him playfully. “Thanks a lot!”

Stiles shrugged. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Scott had zits, and my voice couldn’t decide if I was a ten year-old girl or a twenty year-old guy, but things were so simple then.”

She smiled. “I’m teasing. I know what you mean. Melissa and I want some time to look at designs for the nursery, so we’ll do it then. I don’t need to hear you burp the entire alphabet anyway.”

“Dude! How could you just share that kind of sacred private memory with just anyone!” Stiles complained to Scott. “Now she knows my secret superpower!” 

“I wanted her to love you as much as I do. She had to know about all the special things that make you so uniquely awesome.”

“And it worked “, said Allison grinning. “That alphabet thing just basically sold it.”

Stiles chuckled and returned her smile. 

“Dude,” he told his best friend. “You’re like, the luckiest man on earth.”

“Don’t I know it,” answered Scott, bending down and kissing the tip of Allison’s nose.

“I bet you find your mate before my baby is born,” said Allison.

“God. I hope you’re right,” answered Stiles, sounding more desperate than was warranted. Lost in thought, he missed the worried look that passed between his friends. He shook himself and smiled. “Hey. I need to go to bed. I have to get my beauty sleep: I’m meeting a nerdy, Star Wars loving Alpha tomorrow.”

“Ooooooooh!” said Allison, grinning excitedly.

“I know!” answered Stiles wiggling his eyebrows.

They went up the stairs together, Scott’s arm around Allison’s waist and Stiles shoulders.

~o~

Although he had not gone to bed until late, Stiles got up before his alarm. His sleep pants were wet with cum, again, and he needed to get rid of the evidence and shower thoroughly. Derek was curled up, his nose between his paws, and Stiles was grateful for it, whether the wolf was faking sleep or not.

Under the hot spray, he reflected that his imagination seemed boundless when it came to creating scenarios ending with himself and Derek having sex. Perhaps he should start writing them down and become a famous porn movie writer.

It also seemed that unlike his early sex dreams of Derek, where it always was a first encounter, his subconscious had now apparently decided they were in an established sexual relationship. In the dream just now, Derek had joined Stiles, who was in his pyjama bottom, while he was making coffee in the kitchen.

With nothing covering that perfect muscular body but black boxer shorts, he had hugged him from behind, whispering “Good morning” to him while kissing his neck, which had quite rapidly devolved in Derek fucking him face to face on the kitchen island.

Stiles was both impressed and a bit worried by the amount of realistic details his weird mind came up with: Derek’s hair had been mussed, his body sleepy warm, his face unshaven and his shorts wrinkled as if he had indeed slept in them. The noise of the coffee maker and the scent of fresh coffee being brewed had been present throughout their tryst, and Stiles sleep pants had ended hanging from the kitchen faucet, the sock Derek had inadvertently pulled off along with them landing in the sink. When Stiles had crossed his feet tight against Derek’s lower back, encouraging his thrusts, he had definitely had one sock on, and one sock off.

What he tried very much to ignore was that unlike in his early dreams, where his main focus had been the pleasure he derived from the act, in these more recent dreams the sex had been more a mode of expression of his and Dream-Derek’s feelings. Their fingers intertwined, their breaths mingling, their eyes never leaving one another’s, the profound joy that accompanied the act, all issued from the boundless love they shared, the deep connection that tied them to each other.

By now, he would have given anything for the dreams to stop, as it took him longer every time to overcome their warm lingering echo with the chilling recollection of the harsh reality. 

He considered once again it might be wise to put some distance between him and the object of his quasi-nightly fantasies. Whatever it was that his friendly affection for Derek risked turning into under their influence, it wouldn’t do anyone any good. Absolutely no one.

But the thought of being parted from Derek was so unpalatable as to be practically nauseating. He needed Derek’s reassuring presence, his deadpan humor, his caring concern, his uplifting smiles. Well, he didn’t _need_ them, exactly, but he would much _prefer_ not to be without them. Not _right now_ , anyway.

He dried himself, brushed away his morning breath, and, as quietly as possible, put on the clothes he had prepared: Boxer shorts that kept _things_ in the most flattering arrangement, well fitting khakis, a perfectly sized dark red Henley, matching socks (what was his life coming to, honestly?) a _belt_ , and his dark blue converse. A small dollop of mousse civilized his hair, and the guy who stared back at him from the mirror looked remarkably well put together. 

He totally blamed Danny and Allison for that development, although he suspected some of the clothes he did not particularly remember purchasing, and that oh! so innocently! hung in his closet, may have come to be there via Lydia’s wonton abuse of her mate’s credit card.

He was prepared to tiptoe across his room but then he burst out laughing on his way to the door instead. Derek-the-wolf was lying in his bed, on his back, his body perfectly straight under the covers with his front paws outside of them, and his head resting, snout up, on the pillow, in a ridiculously human position. He was growling loudly and rhythmically off and on, in an approximate imitation of heavy snoring. He looked ludicrous. 

Hearing Stiles's guffaw, he turned his head and opened _one_ eye, before giving Stiles a wolfy grin. Satisfied with the success of his little play-acting, he rolled off the bed and padded in the direction of the guest bath after gently bumping Stiles hip with his shoulder in morning greeting.

Still smiling, Stiles made his way to the kitchen where Melissa, wearing her scrubs under the “I cook therefore you clean” apron, was frying bacon and eggs for them and slicing a pink grapefruit for herself. After giving her a quick hug and a kiss hello, Stiles poured three coffees and put six toasts through the toaster, leaving two unbuttered.

By the time they sat down, Derek came down the stairs.

“Good morning, Mrs. McCall, He greeted. "Thank you for preparing breakfast for us.”

“Good morning, Derek. I have the early shift, we are leaving at about the same time. It’s nice to have some company in the morning.”

“Are you working in the emergency room today?” asked Derek. He always made a effort at small talk with Melissa and John, which Stiles interpreted as a mark of respect.

“No. Today, it’s my day to cuddle babies." She smiled happily. "I am on the newborn side of the maternity ward. My favorite day of the week! I still remember when your sister Nora was born. She turned to a wolf pup half the time. It was impossible to keep a diaper on her. She was so warm, furry and cuddly though. We wear special gowns and gloves not to leave our scent on the babies, but her fur looked so soft, it was very tempting to run my fingers through it."

She chuckled.

“Luckily, I’d seen your mother in her wolf form before, and that was more than a sufficient deterrent to accidentally scent marking her new pup. Of course Nora was only there for less than a day. Your mother slept for ten of the next twelve hours, and she was ready to head home, as good as new."

She sighed, envious. "It took me ten days to be able to get back to a semi-normal life when I had Scott. It was the only time in my marriage that I was actually grateful for Raph’s ridiculous overprotective steak. Giving birth is no picnic when you are human and you have an eight-pound baby…”

TBC


	28. A beautiful man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search continue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed 2 versions ago... I saw some mistakes a minute ago, but I am to sleepy to find then again.
> 
> THIS IS A STEREK STORY. I SWEAR. WE ARE GETTING CLOSER ALL THE TIME.

Because Stiles had gotten up so early, they actually had time to clean up after Mellissa left for work, and Stiles even reprogrammed the coffee maker so that his Dad, who started at eight, would have fresh coffee when he came down for breakfast.

They were on the road at six-thirty on the dot, and Stiles plugged in Erica’s play list. It was a mix of classic favorites, covering the last fifty years. All of them were high energy, and they were familiar enough that Stiles and Derek found themselves singing along to most of them. 

They gave awesome renditions of MC Hammer “Can’t touch this”, Brian Adams, “The summer of 69’”, the B-52’s “The Love Shack” and Steppenwolf’s “Born to be wild”.

Derek surprised Stiles by knowing every words to Mungo Jerry, “In the summertime”, and the alpha cracked up at Stiles perfect lip syncing to Aretha Franklin’s “Respect”.

They sang to the Black Eyed peas, to Billy Idol, to Rihanna, and to many songs of which they didn’t remember neither the title nor the artist, but could belt out the chorus without hesitation. It was the best playlist yet, and it helped Stiles stay up and Derek step on the gas, so they made it to Walker Lake in half an hour less than expected, arriving a bit past ten in the morning.

Derek had not been kidding. There was nothing there but rocky ground and clear blue water. The pack had embraced the barren landscape in their choice of construction. It was ultramodern, angular, with overhangs that provided wide swatches of deep shade. A wide sheet waterfall dropped from the roof into the lake in a graceful arc and there was a tall row of cypresses bordering the south side of the building, either as a windbreak, for added shade, or as a visual backdrop of the habitation, Stiles was not sure.

The overall impression it left was one of peace, permanence and coolth in the vibrating heat of the sun drenched shore. The drive ended in an underground parking garage, which already housed a number of large mud splattered all terrain vehicles. When Stiles stepped out of the car, a couple was walking towards him. They were both dressed in white, both tall, lean, black haired and grey eyed.

The man smiled openly. “Hello Stiles, I’m Jack, and this is my mother and second, Julie. Welcome to…” Jack got distracted and grinned widely when Derek appeared at Stiles side in his wolf form, and in the blink of an eye transformed in just as impressive a wolf, stepping easily out of his linen draw sting trousers as his sleeveless top seemed to just slide off his body. He too was black furred, although he had a grey face. He was just as tall, but leaner than Derek, both because his fur was shorter and his musculature less massive.

Julie laughed as the two wolves bumped shoulders in a playful display. She turned to Stiles and held out her hand in greeting. “I apologize. Meeting a foreign wolf is quite rare in these parts. I think Jack meant to welcome you to the Humbolt pack territory.” Her fingers were soft, dry and cool. Only a few light lines around her eyes and a few silver streak in her long straight hair gave away the she was not her son’s contemporary. She too wore simple white linen clothing, an ankle length straight skirt with long slits on the sides and a vest similar to her son’s. She was barefoot.

“It’s always nice to meet other wolves. Those born to our pack all have the ability to transform fully, although, unlike the Hale Alpha, we are unable to pass it on to outsider. I have met some of the Hale pack before,” she said, “They are closely allied with the Morgans, our neighbors to the north. I take it this is Derek, all grown up?”

“It is.” 

Derek seemed at ease with the situation, and after a few playful shoves, both wolves took off running, heading out of the garage and into the relentless sun at full speed. 

Jack’s mother watched them go with a smile, as she bent down and picked up her son’s clothes. “Come inside. I’ll show you up. Perhaps you’d like to change in something a bit more comfortable in this heat. It’s already over 90 out there and it will climb into the hundreds today. We do cool the house, but a lot of it is open to the outside.”

Stiles thought it was a great idea, as his khakis were already sticking to his body. The wolves came back still running at full speed, their claws clicking and then sliding as they struggled to find purchase on the perfectly smooth cement floor. Then they trotted along with Julie and Stiles into an elevator. One of its walls was made of glass and gave a view of a large, three stories tall atrium open to the desert and the lake view on one side. 

From the high glass ceiling was suspended a complex network of half pipes filled with water, each ending abruptly and dumping its contents that arched several feet down into the next suspended pipe, and down and down again, creating a multitude of misty waterfalls and ending in channels that fed the watershed that poured in a thin layer down all the ground floor walls. From there, the water was gathered into narrow canals that ran across the floor of the atrium and fed into a large indoor/outdoor infinity pool. There were a lot of people lounging about down there, but the space was enormous and did not look crowded although Stiles suspected the entire pack was present. 

“Wow. The waterfalls, the pool. It looks amazing,” said Stiles. 

“It is, isn’t it. The water features have a practical application as well. The whole thing is a close circuit. The water, originally pulled right out of the lake, is filtered, ozonated and refrigerated before it is pumped back up and starts on its way down again, providing most of the cooling for the main areas. The building was my late husband’s design. Our pack house in the mountain is much older, and in a much more classic style. Both have their charms, I feel.”

She showed Stiles into what was obviously a guest bedroom on the second level. It had a window size opening onto the atrium, and a much narrower horizontal window close to the ceiling on the opposite wall that let in some of the brilliant light from the outside. She opened the sliding doors to a large closet, filled with linen clothes much like hers and her sons.

“These are all we wear when we are here. They are one size fits most. Pick something you’ll feel comfortable in. Jack and Derek will wait for you outside, and take you down, so you can meet everyone.”

There was a lot of white clothing in there, but also some that had the muted colors of natural dies. Stiles folded his own clothes and picked long ochre drawstring shorts and an earth red loose top similar to what Julie and Jack wore. It was only held together with a snap at the back of the neck, and Stiles understood how the wolf had so easily slipped out of it. The polished concrete ground was pleasantly cool under his feet.

When he came out, Jack was human and dressed again. He grinned. “Nice choices. I noticed as Mom and I came down that we were both in white today, and I was worried you’d feel like you’d stepped into some weird cult or something.” He wiggled his long fingers while he sang the beginning tune of the Twilight Zone, while making a goofy face and chortled. 

He must have been six four or six five, which gave Stiles a bit of a new sensation since he didn’t have to look up at people very often. Jack had beautifully symmetrical features and a dimple in his chin, and Stiles realized his hair was just as long as his mother’s, just held back in a pony tail. His tan and dark hair emphasized his light grey eyes, which shone with good humor.

He was a beautiful, beautiful man, obviously comfortable in his own skin, his hands moving a lot when he spoke, answering Stiles questions about the house. In the elevator, he described the layout of the building with wide expensive gestures, showing obvious pride in the packs beautiful home. 

With their minimal closure, his garments uncovered flashes of his body as he moved, inadvertently revealing perfectly smooth skin over lean, well-delineated muscles, but he was oblivious. His careless demeanor was the total opposite of Ruby’s calculated sexually charged presence. 

“Come meet everyone!” he cried happily, as they reached the ground floor. He was so excited to introduced Stiles to his pack, it was really endearing.

When they stepped out of the elevator and into the atrium, they were greeted by welcoming smiles and friendly banter. Aside from Jack, there were only two alphas, both mated to betas. Interestingly enough, there were a lot of mated betas, unusual, since a mated beta was actually quite a rare Sorting. 

“We are so glad you’re here,” said a young woman called Nova. “We all decided it was a good excuse to take a week off.”

“Yeah, come back and come often,” said Miko, the man Jack had introduced as her mate. “It’s too hot for mining!” Stiles wasn’t sure which had married into the pack. Actually, the vast majority of the pack members shared the same general look: dark straight hair, tanned skin and beautiful, high cheek boned features.

“It’s always too hot for mining,” joked Jack.

“Why can’t we have a life of leisure?” asked Talulah, whom Jack had introduced as his sister. It had hardly been necessary, the family resemblance so obvious, both sharing the grey eyes and the dimpled chin. “I want to spend my days relaxing in a chaise while Karl feeds me strawberries and pealed grapes while wearing a loin cloth.”

Her mate, whose curly blond hair, light blue eyes, rugged features and thick musculature stood out from the rest, cracked up at the image. “That would last a half a day, and then you’d start panning for gold in the pool.”

She hit him playfully and laughed.

After a while, Stiles lost track of people’s names, but was told it didn’t matter, that they didn’t mind reminding him of their names. All the pack members were super nice and upbeat, and included Wolf-Derek in their conversation, as if used to the presence of shifted wolves among them.

Someone declared they didn’t care how early it was, they were starving and it was time to eat, damnit!

Stiles all heartedly agreed, his breakfast far memory. Everyone went to the kitchen, throwing salads together, making quick gazpacho in an industrial size blender, mixing cooked wild rice with pine nuts, cutting fruits onto platters, emptying bags of chips into tightly weaved baskets and getting salsa, guacamole and cheese out of a huge fridge. They also got out trays of cold cubed raw rabbit meat “for the wolves”, and some cold grilled rabbit kabobs with some kind of hot sauce.

Out of boxes came petits fours and chocolates, and a huge bag of candy, the kind you could buy around Halloween was emptied into a bowl. Somebody had a real sweet tooth. 

All the food ended up displayed on trays filled with crushed ice, here and there in the atrium, people eating and coming in and out of the large infinity pool. The colorful baubles floating in a tall blown glass Galileo thermometer, set on a platform in a corner, indicated the Atrium was at a stable 86 degrees. The pack members thought nothing of striping naked and diving in, then putting their clothes back on while wet to enjoy being cooled as they dried. Quite a few people went into the water as wolves, spraying others willy-nilly when they came out and shook the excess water off. Stiles told himself to go with the flow.

Derek ate _a lot_ of raw rabbit, and obviously enjoyed the cool water, looking hardly any smaller when he came out with his thick fur dripping wet. Thoughtful of the length and thickness of his fur, he was kind enough to shake some distance away, spraying droplets that made a rainbow in the light, before coming back to lie close to Stiles chaise all fluffy and refreshed. 

It wasn’t until mid-afternoon, after the meal had been cleared away and while the pack members swam and relaxed, reading, chatting, playing cards and board games, that finally Stiles realized what had been vaguely nagging at him. 

At the time, Julie was showing him some of the gold creations and tightly weaved baskets a lot of the pack members made as hobbies, which were displayed here and there in the room. It was natural she would be the one he asked. 

“Julie, where are the pack’s children?” After all, he had been introduced to no less than _seven_ mated couples and five married ones. Many were in their twenties and early thirties.

She gave him a light smile, but her eyes were full of meaning. She pointed out a teenager, playing tug of war with Derek, who was acting uncommonly relaxed. “Mayara is the youngest of the pack. Her Sorting will be next year, at the Cold moon.”

Very softly, she added, “There have been no children born since before my husband passed. Actually, there have been no heats, productive or otherwise, since Jack took over as Alpha.”

Stiles’s face must have shown his puzzlement. She gave him the same light smile and shrugged her shoulders minutely, then smiled more widely at Jack, who was making his way to them.

“Jack,” she suggested, “Stiles loves our gold work. Why don’t you take him to the lab and explain the casting process to him, and show him some of your own pieces?”

“I’d love to! Are you interested?” he asked Stiles.

“Yes, I’d really like that.” He had had a great time with the pack, spoken to a lot of them and had conversations that included Jack, but always as part of a group. It was past time they be alone and speak one on one as far Stiles was concerned. “Can you show me your finished work, first?”

Jack looked excited at the prospect. “They’re in my quarters. Come!”

Stiles automatically looked for Derek and found the black wolf looking right back at him from the other side of the atrium, sitting on his haunches. He wagged his tail at Stiles, then, to Stiles’s astonishment, lay down turning his head toward the pool, showing no interest in following his charge.

Nonplussed, but honestly feeling no threat at all from Jack, Stiles got in the elevator alone with him. “Your pack is wonderful,” Stiles commented. “You are all so warm and fun.”

Jack smiled proudly. “I know. We are all enjoying the impromptu vacation. Truth is, when we work, we work like dogs, and mining is hard, dirty work. We have quotas to meet, to fulfill our orders, and until last month, we hadn’t hit a good vein in a while. Now, we’re playing catch up, and it’s been so hot this year… We were glad when Mr. Deaton called. Obviously glad I made the cut, but also happy to take a break.”

They went all the way to the third floor, and walked to a door made of beautiful dark wood.

“Well, that’s me,” said Jack. “Come on in.”

It was warm in the room, as it didn’t open to the atrium, so when they entered Jack turned the air conditioning on, and it cooled rapidly. They were in his actual bedroom, and even though it was very spacious and included a sitting area with a large screen TV and an office area, the unmade, very big bed loomed large. 

There were books and magazines around. On the desk, there were messy piles of files and loose papers, and although yesterday’s clothes had been thrown in the general direction of the hamper, only very few must have made it in, the others scattered around it. They were work clothes, not at all the type of garment everyone was wearing today. There was a denim shirt with orange reflective bands on the arms, canvas overalls with reinforced waterproof material to the knees, a reflective vest, work socks and a jockstrap. In the corner were muddy work shoes, a helmet with a front light, protective goggles, a pair of thick rawhide gloves and an athletic cup.

Jack noticed where Stiles was looking and laughed. “Your man called in the morning, but I only checked my messages mid-afternoon. We left straight from the mine, and ordered food to be delivered from the Lake Tahoe township for the next few days. It’s a six and a half hour drive for us, because it was all off road. We were all pretty bushed when we got here.” He kicked the muddy clothes generally closer to the hamper and obviously decided that it was good enough.

“Here, sit down,” Jack said, plopping down on the bed as if it was the most natural thing to do. “Check these out.” He pulled out the top drawer of his nightstand and dumped it on the bed, smoothing the sheet so he could set everything up nicely.

“Oh, my god! Awesome!” cried Stiles, forgetting his mild discomfort at sitting, unprotected, on an unmated alpha’s bed when he noticed the three inch tall C3PO. There was also a perfect replica of R2D2, of an Xwing fighter, of a Tie fighter and of the gorgeous J-type Nubian Royal Starship used by Queen Amidala, its design the best part of the three prequels, in Stiles opinion.

“I cast C3PO is 18 carat gold,” mentioned Jack. “The others are made of different alloys, and some baked on enamel.” He chuckled. “I’m such a Star Wars nerd.”

There was also a magnificently detailed wolf figurine, some rings, a perfectly shaped egg, three bicolor acorns, a tiny articulated teddy bear, and a small bust of Tahula, perfectly realized.

“That’s my mother’s wolf,” said Jack, depositing the wolf figurine in Stiles palm. 

“You are really gifted,” said Stiles, rather awed.

Jack smiled, obviously pleased. “Thank you. I’m very slow, however. Each of these took me months to get right. But I enjoy it, sometimes.” He swept all of them carelessly back into the drawer but then, pulled out one of the acorn. “Would you like one of these?” he asked. “I’d like for you to have it.”

“You mean I can’t have C3PO?” teasingly, trying to imitate Scott lethal begging face.

“Pfft! As if,” answered Jack, laughing.

Stiles grinned. “Thank you,” he said seriously, accepting the gift. “It’s beautiful.”

“Here,” said Jack, taking it back for a moment. He passed a thin leather lanyard through the curving stem of the acorn and tied it around Stiles’s wrist. “Just so you don’t lose it, since you don’t have pockets.” 

“I love it,” said Stiles admiring it. Jack was obviously pleased his gift had been well received. He gestured to the big Screen. “You wouldn’t judge a guy because he is 27 and still plays video games, would you?”

“Video games are the twentieth century’s most important contribution to civilization, Dude.”

“That’s what I say!” Jack grinned. “Halo or Call of Duty?”

“CoD. Prepare to die.”

“Yeah, right!”

Stiles had not expected Jack to be a cheating cheater that cheats, but he _so_ was… He shoved Stiles to get him to miss, put his hand over Stiles’s eyes, so of course Stiles had to retaliate. As they yelled and laughed, the game was almost as physical between the players as between their avatars until finally Jack resorted to _unplugging_ Stiles’s controls to win.

“You are a terrible, evil, awful person, and I don’t like you at all!” cried Stiles, disgusted.

“Someone is a sore looser,” mocked Jack.

“What? WHAT?” Stiles jumped on him and, getting him in a choke hold, gave him a hard noogie. But Jack had a definite size advantage and easily getting out of Stiles’s hold had him pinned in a minute. He had Stiles howling with laughter by rubbing his ribs with his knuckles.

“Admit I won, or I’ll tickle you until you pee yourself!”

“All right! Uncle! You won!” cried Stiles out of breath and still chuckling.

Jack grinned. “All right!” he crowed. Then, he admitted, “I may have cheated. A little bit.”

Stiles snorted and rolled his eyes from his pinned position.

“But you were winning, by like, a lot!” Jack said, as if that was a valid excuse. “What kind of guest beats his host this badly? Have you no shame?”

He finally rolled off Stiles, both of them laughing. Stiles felt very comfortable around him. It was like goofing off with Jackson, or Boyd, with absolutely no undercurrent of sexual tension at all, not even the tiny thrill he used to get, doing the same type of wrestling around with Danny, before Masson. It was weird.

“Hey, Jack. Can I ask you a pretty personal question?” Stiles asked, as Jack helped him up so they could sit on the couch.

“You mean more personal that that questionnaire? Is there anything you still don’t know about me?”

“Oh, I didn’t see your answers to the questionnaire. My friend Lydia and Mr. Deaton selected the alphas I was most compatible with, and I just get a short resume about the people I’m about to meet. They think it’s better if I meet each one without prejudice.”

“Oh. I guess that’s a defensible position.” Jack leaned back in the couch. “So, what would you like to know?”

Stiles only hesitated a moment. “Are you gay or bisexual?”

Jack did not seemed bothered by the question at all. He shrugged. “Bisexual, probably. I’m not attracted to one sex any more than I an to the other.”

Uh. That was an interesting way of putting it.

“So, you have dated both men and women?”

“I became the Alpha at eighteen, wayyyy too young. I have to admit I wasn’t quite ready. It was a bit overwhelming, and for a long time, I didn’t even give dating a thought. Now that things are easier, I guess I’ve never met anyone I really wanted to date.” He shrugged. “We don’t meet many people out here.”

That was interesting. His pack members seemed to have no problems meeting potential partners.

Because he knew there was something significant there, but wasn’t quite sure what it was and because he needed time to think, he asked, “What do I smell like, to you?” 

Jack breathed in deeply, smiling. “You smell great. Like evergreen, and cinnamon, and a bit of wood smoke. You smell like Christmas. It’s my favorite time of the year. We take two weeks off, and we spend it all together. I love it, being with all my friends, my family, the pack just relaxing. It’s the best.”

That actually helped. Now having aninkling about what was actually going on, he just went for broke. “Can I ask you one more thing? Please tell me if it’s too personal. You don’t owe me any answers.”

Jack shrugged again. “Shoot.”

“Who were you with in your last wet dream?”

“I can see how answering that one could might be pretty mortifying for some people.” He cracked up. ““Your dad!”, or worse, “My granma!”.” He snorted. “Sorry about that.” He was serious again when he answered, more subdued. “Well, actually Stiles, I’ve never had a wet dream.”

They looked at each other quietly. “You are not attracted to me at all, are you?” Stiles asked, finally.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Are you crazy? Of course I am. I would love it if you chose to stay with our pack. Everyone loves you, you fit right in. Also, selfishly, for me! You’re wonderful. You would be a companion to go through life with.”

Stiles went for the direct approach, because he really needed to know.“ Jack, do you want to have sex with me?”

Jack looked down at his hansds. “…I could. I mean, I would, of course, if you wanted to. If it made you happy.” He looked back at Stiles. “And I love hugs. I think I’d like _very much_ to cuddle with you.” Jack was blushing, as if he had just confessed to some wild sexual kink.

Stiles smiled and moved close to him to gave him a hug. It was lovely, and obviously appreciated as Jack happily hugged him back, but it felt like hugging Melissa. Jack was handsome, and kind, and smart, and gifted, and funny. But Stiles realized he was just not a sexual being. He loved his friends, his family, his pack. He would love to share his life with someone who shared that love, someone he could goof off with and could cuddle with at night, but sex was just not something he needed or wanted, for himself. Wow. 

That sexual indifference was such a foreign thing to Stiles. He’d never heard of anything like it. He had had wet dreams since he was thirteen, definitely felt a tingle of arousal around attractive people and his body craved sexual intimacy. 

An Alpha’s sexuality drove that of the pack. With Jack so, well, nonsexual, even if some of his pack members enjoyed a rich sex life, none of them would be able to go into heat, so sadly, as long as Jack was their Alpha, there would be no children in the Humbold pack.

He had a feeling that Julie was aware of the root of the problem, and that perhaps, some of the others pack members might eventually guess also. It was a terrible shame. Jack was a wonderful, beloved Alpha.

Stiles suddenly came to a decision. He pulled away from the hug. “Hey, Jack. I really need to talk to Derek. Do you mind if we go back down?”

“No, of course not.” He made a face. “I guess it’s about time for the both of you to head out, isn’t it?”

“I just have to talk to him. Can we use that room were I changed earlier?”

“Of course. Although you will need to turn on the white noise machine and speak softly if you want privacy.”

When they got to the atrium, Stiles realized it what later than he had though. The light, although still bright, had changed angle, and the oppressive heat seemed to have lessened a bit, the heat mirages outside less pronounced. 

Derek was in the pool again, but he came out and shook as soon as the elevator doors opened.

“See you soon,” said Jack, walking off, and holding the door until Derek came on.

As soon as the door closed, Stiles said, “We’re going to the room where I changed this morning. I need to talk to you. There are plenty of clothes in the closet.” 

Derek would need to shift back, obviously, and Stiles didn’t care how casual the pack was about nudity. He wasn’t about to try and have a conversation with Derek in his birthday suit. His subconscious didn’t need any more fodder for his stupid dreams.

He watched the waterfalls in the upper part of the atrium from the window while Derek shifted and dressed, and smiled to see he had managed to find dark grey string pants and a moss green top, probably the two darkest item in the closet.

He turned on the white noise machine to the sound of surf, and he and Derek went into the attached bath, closed the door and sat on the side of the tub.

“What’s up?” asked Derek.

“You could sense it on him, couldn’t you? Is it his scent? You knew I’d be perfectly safe alone with Jack, that he has no sexual drive whatsoever.”

“His scent didn’t change at all when your pheromones hit him. His posture was not meant to show off his best features, and he changed into a wolf playfully, so I would feel welcome, not to impress you. His primary concern was that you should like his pack, and that they should meet you,” Derek explained.

Stiles nodded. “Seven mated couple, Derek, all of child bearing age, and not one heat in nine years.”

“You think his lack of sexual drive is negatively influencing their normal cycles.”

Stiles nodded again. “Derek, we are spending the night. We are going to have a huge cuddle pile somewhere, and hope Lydia’s right and that my omega pheromones will kick starts some of their heats.”

Derek obviously hated what he had to say. “We cannot stay the night, Stiles. This house is completely open and unprotected. This particular unmated alpha might be safe for you to be around, but by now, your whereabouts today have made the news, they always do. There is only one road out of here. It will be noticed if we don’t leave very son.”

Derek’s raised hand stopped whatever objection Stiles was about to make, and he went on. “The Lake Tahoe Township has a University. The summer session has started. There are probably _over a hundred unmated alphas_ just hours away, removed from the stabilizing influence of their packs, and your pheromones are on the wind.”

He shook his head regretfully. “We just can’t stay. I know what you are trying to do, and these people could certainly use your help, but there is a big difference between us driving by an hour from the township at ninety miles per hour in a closed car, and us spending the night only a couple hours away completely unprotected.”

Damnit. Derek made a compelling argument. And the full moon was closing in. Stiles shivered at the thought of the house being attacked in the middle of the night by a pack of feral young alphas. It would not end well.

Derek interrupted his gloomy thoughts. “Hunters,” he said.

“Eh?”

“There might be a family of Hunters in the township. They’d have mountain ash, and wolfsbane. They might be willing to patrol the township and get any alpha thinking of making a bad error in judgment to rethink their priorities. Hand me your phone and let me call Peter.”

Stiles dug his phone out of his pants and gave it to Derek who dialed the number from memory. Without preamble, and evidently as soon as Peter Hale picked up, he announced, “Stiles wants to spend the night. We need Hunters… Okay,” and then hung up.

Stiles was flabbergasted. “Gee, such a long-winded explanation!” he said. “Ten words, Derek. That was ten words! How can he even know what you are talking about?”

Derek’s eyebrows definitely asked, “Are you serious?” before he deigned answering.

“Stiles, we are _Left Hands_ , he _trained_ me. There is nothing I could have thought of that will not be just as obvious to him as it was to me, and speed is of the essence, here.”

The phone beeped signaling a message, interrupting whatever sarcastic response Stiles was about to make. Derek checked it and handed the phone to Stiles. There was nothing there but the word “Pique” and a number. 

“Pikuey?” asked Stiles. “What does that even mean?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “It’s pronounced Pick. It’s the name of the closest family of Hunters. Chris Argent is probably talking to them as we speak. You need to call that number, because the request has to come from you, the human omega, and not from me, a Hale Left Hand, who would then owe these Hunters a favor. Just arrange a meeting place for them to give you the mountain ash. They’ll meet us halfway, I’m sure. But first, _obviously_ , you have to ask Jack if we can spend the night.”

“Oh! Duh. I forgot that part. I should talk to Julie, actually.”

“I’ll get her for you.” He placed his hand on Stiles’s wrist, to emphasize his next words, _perhaps_ insinuating Stiles was easily distracted. “Call the Piques _as soon_ as you can, please?”

Ordinarily, Stiles might have been a little annoyed by Derek’s behavior about the whole thing, but he was, first of all, a bit awed by his friend, and second of all, realizing how _hot_ he found Derek-the Left Hand in action, so he meekly promised, “I will.”

After Derek left, Stiles went and lay on the bed, thinking about how to present his case to Julie. He was positive she knew there was a correlation between her son’s total disinterest in relationships and the pack’s couples inability to have children. Yet Stiles had to take her loyalty and her respect for her Alpha into account.

He got up when she knocked. “Please, come in.”

She smiled at him, and closed the door behind her. Her long hair was dripping wet and her clothes were sticking to her body. Evidently, his summon had pulled her out of the pool.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your swim,” he said.

“No worries, I’ll just grab some dry clothes,” she said, pulling a long blue-grey dress out of the closet, “and towel my hair dry in the bath. Why don’t you join me and keep me company? It will take some time. My hair is ridiculously thick.”

Well, she was obviously giving him the opportunity to talk to her in complete privacy.

“I’ll join you in a moment,” Stiles answered, hoping she would take the hint and change clothing before then.

He counted out three minutes, and went in. Thankfully, she was wearing the dress, and sitting on the lid of the toilet while drying her hair with a fluffy white towel.

“So, Stiles, what is on your mind, dear?” she asked, as he closed the door and sat, again, on the side of the tub. His ass protested a bit. It was not the most comfortable sit in the house.

“I was hoping you would allow us to enjoy the Humbolt pack’s hospitability for another day. Derek and I have already thought ahead and addressed all of the security issues that our stay would create, so unless it would be too much of an imposition?”

She looked very pleased. Stiles felt bad, thinking she might believe his omega’s instincts had chosen Jake. “No imposition at all, Stiles. I think I speak for everyone when I say how much we all have enjoyed yours and Derek’s visit.”

Stiles lifted his phone his phone and said, “Excuse me a moment, I have a quick call to make.” Stiles auto-dialed the number sent by Peter, and waited as it rang.

“Pique residence, this is Emma speaking.”

“Uh… Hello m’am. My name is Stiles Stilinski and…”

“… and you need some mountain ash, which I just happen to have a big sac of, right here, in my hot little hand. So, how about I meet you on the road, where the Humbolt pack territory meets the Township preserve?”

 

“Oh! Uh, isn’t that quite a bit closer to us than it is to you?” asked Stiles, pretty sure that he was right.

“Yes, but you’ll be driving while staring into the setting sun. Tears! Pain! Bwahahahaha! Yes, I’m cruelly laughing at you, not with you, ‘cause I eeeeviiiiil! Better wear your shades, sucker!”

Stiles cracked up. “All right, M’am. Will do.”

“Would you stop calling me m’am? We Sorted at the same moon. Of course, being much smarter than you, I Sorted an alpha and kept my life simple.”

“Lucky you! Hm. Uh, do you have a mate?”

“No. Don’t need one. My mom and dad will find me some nice Hunter, and we will live happily ever after raising our human children. Don’t worry, my lovely freckled little nose is not quite sensitive enough for your pheromones to enthrall me. And you have a big bad wolf bodyguard anyway, don’t you?”

“But what if you’re the unmated alpha my heart has been waiting for? What if it’s love as first sight?” asked Stiles, jokingly.

“Oh, Jesus on a pogo stick! Wouldn’t that just piss everyone off!” She cackled. “All your gifts totally wasted on a human with no heat and no possible SASSH increase. Plus I can just imagine my Dad’s face if he was suddenly related, no matter how remotely, to some werewolves! That would be fucking awesome!” She added gleefully.

“You are kind of evil,” agreed Stiles.

“You big flatterer! You’re buttering me up! See, you’ve fallen for me already.” She snorted. “See you soon, my love! Drive safely!”

Stiles chortled as he hung up. “I better mention the sunglasses to Derek. I’m pretty sure he has a pair, but…”

“I had only seen him as a wolf before he came to get me,” mentioned Julie. “He is the portrait of his father, isn’t he?”

“Yes. He and his older brother Michael definitely take after their dad.” Stiles took advantage of that segue. “I have a brother as well, did you know? His name is Scott. Well, he is a brother to me in all but genetics, actually. He Sorted a mated alpha at the last Hunter moon, and was lucky enough to already know his mate, our friend Allison. Lydia, whose pigtails I pulled since third grade, and who came up with the idea of a website to help me find my mate, Sorted at the last Crow moon, a mated alpha as well, and she too already knew her mate, Jackson, since kindergarten. Finally, my friend Erica, whose pack we often run with during the full moons, Sorted an alpha at the Flower moon, and we all pretty much already knew that her mate would be Boyd, an alpha whose pack is the most closely allied to my own.”

“Six young people, all close to you and all mated alphas?” asked Julie, surprised.

“I know. And these are just the heterosexual couples. Four more of the people I have known forever, Danny and Masson, and Cora and Angelique, are mated alpha couples as well. Lydia did the math, and it’s obvious that how they Sorted was influenced by my omega pheromones, years before they became noticeable.”

“How fascinating!” Stiles could tell that though she indeed found it interesting, she was wondering where he was going with his story. So it was time for the big finale.

“The most fascinating part is that Allison, Lydia and Erica all went into productive heats within weeks of their official mating and that they are all pregnant.”

Julie’s mouth literally dropped open. She stopped rubbing at her hair, her eyes wide. 

“Within weeks of their mating? In heat? _Pregnant!_ That’s… well not impossible, _obviously_ , but unbelievable? Amazing? Unheard of?”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah. All of the above. Apparently, the theory that an omega must mate and that it is his or her permanent heat hormones that drives his packmates’ heats is a misconception. According to Lydia, and she is rarely wrong, it is simply the exposure to my chameleon hormones that does the trick.”

He leaned forward a bit to make sure he had her full attention. “I believe that since the exposure to an omega’s pheromones may well cause people around him to go into heat, it is entirely possible that the opposite be true: that there might be individuals whose pheromones might actually suppress their pack’s heat.”

“I suppose it might be so,” agreed Julie, with sadness in her eyes.

“But, anyway,” said Stiles, wanting to dispel the melancholic mood. “Thank you for allowing us to spend the night. Just so you know, I like to sleep with all windows and doors to my bedroom shut. And I find I get my best rest when I am surrounded by couples of child baring age, _for reasons,_ especially if we find ourselves at very close quarters.”

Julie could not help but chuckle at Stiles being so ridiculously transparent. 

“Is that so?” she said.

“It is, but I’m not sure how to make it happen while at the same time keeping single people away because... Single people tend to snore?”

Julie raised her eyebrows at him. 

“And hog the blankets?” added Stiles tentatively.

“Well,” she admitted, “that’s logical. They would not be used to sharing, now, would they?”

“Exactly,” agreed Stiles, nodding gravely.

Julie seemed to give the matter some serious thought. “If you told our Alpha that your brother’s mate is with child, and that you would love to commission a special piece of jewelry from him, to take home to her tomorrow, to mark the event, I know he would be thrilled. He would have to work on it late into the night, and would not be able to concern himself with whatever else might be going on around here. That’s fine, of course, since he trust me enough to leave the pack in my hands for a few hours. The commission would have to be something fairly simple, however, so he could see it to completion in only a matter of hours.”

Stiles thought quickly. “A ring, in the shape of an arrow maybe? Allison is from a family of Hunters, and her accuracy with a bow saved me from a kidnapping, a few months ago.”

“Oh. Your brother is human as well?”

“No, he’s a werewolf.”

“A werewolf mated to a Hunter. What an interesting pack you have, Stiles. But yes, an arrow shaped ring will be perfect. You should ask Jack about it soon, so he can start working on it immediately after dinner.”

She frowned and added, “I am afraid that, to insure your safety, I will have to _insist_ you sleep in one of our very rarely used heat room, underground. They are the only rooms where a couple is insured total privacy, since most the other quarters have glazing-less openings onto the atrium, to allow for air circulation. 

“As added protection, I believe I will have all of our pack members between the ages of twenty-one and, let me think, yes, thirty-four, not otherwise occupied, lock themselves in that room with you, ready to defend you. It might be a bit cramped, to be sure, but as we always say in the mining business, Safety First!”

“Thank you so much. I will be safe as houses.”

“Excellent. And how does homemade pizza sound for dinner?”

“It sounds great!”

“The dough will have to rise. You will have time to rendez-vous with the charming Emma Pique, and be back it time to bake your own. You best leave now. Pizza waits for no man.”

Stiles laughed and ran out the door to find Derek.


	29. The Howl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek are visiting a pack in Nevada.  
> Believe it or not, this was still part of the same chapter as "Home" originally. I'm posting it in smaller chunks because Word is acting up, I lost my fob, (Oh, sorry, data carrier. It's a fucking fob, OK?) I am not somewhere where I can back things up except to "the cloud", and what the fuck is that, even? Does it sound to you like you can get something back from some cloud, up there in the ether? Well, it doesn't to me, so there, I'm posting the thing.

Thank heavens their meeting point with the Hunter was slightly Northwest, because facing the setting sun was indeed very unpleasant. Stiles took advantage of the drive to leave a message for his dad, explaining they were staying longer. He’d purposefully called home knowing he would get the machine, because he knew his Alpha would not be pleased.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure both Peter and Chris have called him as well, to reassure him. We shouldn’t be in too much trouble,” said Derek.

Stiles was amused Derek was expecting getting his ass chewed too.

A large black SUV was already waiting for them. The woman who jumped out when they pulled up was blond and, well, athletic. Like “Steven Rogers after the serum had a baby with Thor” kind of athletic. Basically, she looked as if she could have easily broken Derek over her knee without trying too hard. She was a freaking Valkyrie. Her long blond braids didn’t do anything to dispel that impression. 

She did have, as promised, a freckled nose, as well as a laughing mouth and dancing blue eyes, and Stiles found himself looking up at someone for the second time that day. They grinned at each other.

“You left your armor and you winged helmet at home, didn’t you?” asked Stiles.

Emma burst out laughing. “And look at you, quite tall you are for a Hobbit. You must be a Took. And you shaved your feet today, and everything!”

It was Stiles turn to laugh. She threw the bag of ash to him, and he caught it with a “Humph!” The thing must have weight thirty pounds.

“Just cut one of the corners open and walk around the house. They’ll have to turn off the roof’s waterfall for a short while. Make sure you put plenty there, underneath it, tight against the wall, so it doesn’t get washed away by the mist too soon when they start it up again.” 

Hm. Stiles wondered if Jack had any inkling the areas’ Hunters were so familiar with his pack’s set up. 

“My family and I will be doing our best to contain any foolish young alpha from the university, but as you know, we don’t actually have a legal leg to stand on if they decide to ignore our reminders of what will be best for their pack.”

“I really appreciate you doing this.”

“Vicky Argent seems to think the world of your pack and Chris had nothing but good things to say about your Alpha, plus the Humbolts are good people. We’re happy to help. Of course, we could always use some more reliable information about omegas. If you care to share some of what your experience has taught you, we would feel well rewarded for our efforts.”

“I am still figuring out a lot of things myself, truthfully, but if you have questions, send them on. I’ll answer them to the best of my abilities.”

“Take care, Stiles. Don’t do anything foolish tonight.”

“I won’t. See you, Emma.”

She sighed heavily. “Yeah, well, off I go, my little heart broken. And I was so sure about us being made for each other! It was a close thing, really. A foot more and fifty extra ponds of muscles, and I would have carried you home over my shoulder to meet my folks.” She jumped back in the SUV, laughing.

Stiles rejoined Derek who had sat low in the car the whole time. 

“Well, wasn’t that a cautionary tale about the evil of inbreeding!” the wolf said.

“That’s so mean! She was just big boned! I think you’re jealous because she can probably bench press as much as you do.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Derek added, frowning thoughtfully. “I might be able to take her, as a wolf, although it might be a close thing.”

“Not funny. Without weapons, she wouldn’t stand a chance and you know it,” said Stiles. “She may look like some warrior out of Norse mythology, but she’s only human.”

Derek smiled and shrugged. “I know. But isn’t it a shame even my mother can’t turn humans? Can you imagine her as a wolf? _That_ would be something!”

“I guess it would,” Stiles admitted. For some reason, that last remark of Derek really bothered him. Did Derek, deep down inside, think less of him because he was only human? No matter how strong Emma was, how fast, how much she trained, her SASSH would still be a one across the board, she could not even dream to rival even the weakest werewolf. No un-armed human, not even Emma, could do that. 

And what if humans could be turned. Would only the Emmas of this world make the cut? Was Stiles too skinny, too weak, to even make it worth the effort? A long time ago, Derek had reassured him that he’d have made a “magnificent” wolf, and that Derek liked him better just as he was, Human. Yet, he’d also teased him that if he were a were, he would probably shift into a Jack Russel, so…

“Stiles? Were did you go?” asked Derek, taking his eyes of the road for a moment. He always seemed to sense when something bothered Stiles.

“If some scheming alpha managed to successfully force-bond me, what do you think are the chances that I would remain human?” Stiles asked, not able to ask what he really wanted to know.

“None,” replied Derek without hesitation. “The type of unscrupulous alpha who would do such a thing would do it for two reasons: Power, and progeny. You would become a powerful werewolf, a female one if they were male, a male one if they were female, and a hermaphrodite if they were gay, so you two could still produce pups while you would be satisfying their sexual orientation. You would be submissive, so they could use you to gain advantage over others in every possible way, and you would feel no remaining connection to your pack and family, because they would not want your loyalties divided. There would be nothing left of Stiles Stilinski as we know him.”

Stiles looked at him in a state of shock. Every point he brought up made sense, but to have it presented in such a stark, emotionless way was disturbing. Basically, Stiles, as he was, was worth nothing.

“That would only happen over my dead body, Stiles. Literally. And they would find me very hard to kill,” asserted Derek. “We have taken, and will continue to take every step so that some random alpha raping you is not just improbable, but impossible, tonight being a case in point. The alpha you do bond with will love you for being human, will cherish your pack, will adore everything about you and worship the ground you walk on, because they will be your true mate, Stiles.”

He turned to Stiles and smiled. “We are not taking these little trips for our health, you know? Or for the sight seeing, or for the entertainment value, or for reuniting lovers or helping out a pack unable to produce pups. These are all side benefits. I’m not saying we should not enjoy ourselves as we go, but you need to keep your eye on the prize. Our next trip, or the next, or the next, your mate will sweep you of your feet and it will all have been worth it.”

Okay. Stiles needed to get a grip, because the way his emotions were fluctuating was about to give him whiplash. There was _absolutely_ nothing in what Derek had just said that should cause his throat to close up and his eyes to fill with tears.

He needed a break, that was all. He was emotionally wrung out. He needed a day with his bro, to just fuck around, waste time, be stupid, remember who he had been, who he _still was_ under the well fitting clothes, the _matching_ socks, the universal approval, the stupid pheromones. Remember the Stiles his pack and family loved long before he Sorted, even if he was worth _nothing_ to the rest of the world. He needed a wet dream involving him fucking Ruby against a fucking red wood, is what he needed.

Because he needed to stop falling in love with a cleaved alpha, stop wanting a man who could never want him back, _and_ who probably would never have wanted his worthless carcass even if he had the choice. He needed to stop betraying their friendship by hiding behind it to get any crumb of affection and physical intimacy he could get. He was such a pathetic mess.

“Stiles, what’s the…”

“I’m fine. I’m just tired all of a sudden.”

“Come on. You know I can…”

“Derek! For once, would you kindly respect my privacy and stop using your fucking powers against me? _I_ can’t tell when _you_ lie. _I_ can’t smell _your_ emotions, _I_ can’t read _your_ poker face. Would you perhaps consider how rude, how disrespectful and humiliating it is that it doesn’t stop you from doing these exact things to me all the fucking time? _I am fine, Derek, I’m just tired._ Just accept that fucking answer, would you? If I wanted to tell you more than that, if I wanted to _share_ , I fucking would, all right?”

He lowered his seat, curled on his side, his back to Derek, and spent the next forty minutes ignoring his tears and concentrating on thinking up baby names for his friends’ pups.

~o~

The minute they parked the Camaro, Derek was back in his wolf form. It pissed Stiles off. He was starving, and since Derek-the-wolf could certainly not do so, Stiles, no matter how undesirable he would be without his stupid pheromones, how fucking worthless he was, would have to lay the mountain ash circle down around the house before he got a break. They got in the elevator, Derek holding his clothes delicately between his teeth. Stiles did not offer to carry them for him. He pressed the button to the second floor, needing to compose himself before he talked to anyone.

He was preparing to send Derek back down to the ground floor when the wolf stepped out of the elevator. Did Derek really _have_ to follow him to the guest room _now_? Had they not established he was safe in this house?

“Can you just leave your clothes here and head back down? I kind of need…” Fuck it. He didn’t have to tell Derek anything. “Just go, okay?”

Derek dropped his linen pants and top and left. Stiles slammed the door behind him. He was so fucking _angry_. And it was too fucking warm in this place. He took off his clothes and marched into the shower, turning it to cold. The sudden shock of the powerful freezing stream of water took his breath away and snapped him out of it.

He had been acting completely irrationally. Turning the water to lukewarm, he slid down the glass until he was sitting on the ground, and he hid his face in his hands.

What the fuck was wrong with him? He was angry, yes, but he was not angry at _Derek._ He knew Derek did not think of him as worthless. He had just honestly answered Stiles question. Stiles was not even angry at anything specific. Every little thing just added up. 

He just was not where he had thought he would be a year ago. What he really wanted right now was to hit replay, go back to the evening of the Pink moon, look up at his Alpha and hear him announce, “Stiles Stilinski of the Stilinski pack is a beta! His loyalty to his pack and his support to his Alpha will make the pack stronger.” It would have been perfect. Hell, even being an alpha would have been perfect.

Anything but what had actually happened. He would be heading to college soon. There would be no crazed alphas, no press, no questionnaire, no search, no need for extra security. The Hales would just be this big, half-mythical pack they all relied on. He would never have met them, never have met Derek, never have known the hopeless feeling of loving a cleaved wolf…

Suddenly, a terribly mournful howl wrenched him from his thoughts. It was sorrowful and desolate and tore at his heart. It went on, and on, anguished and hopeless.

Derek! Here he had been, reveling in his pathetic pity party, and something was happening to Derek!

The howl died down on a last pain filled note. He almost slipped as he hurried out of the shower.

What if this entire time Derek had been fighting invading wolves, because Stiles had been too busy wallowing to put down the ash circle? What if he was wounded? Without bothering with a towel, he grabbed his shorts and put them on as he made his way through the room. 

How could Stiles have left so much time pass after realizing how unfair he had been by taking his frustrations out on Derek, without seeking him out to apologize? What if he was too late? What if Derek died thinking Stiles hated him!

He hurriedly picked up Derek’s discarded top because it was the one next to the door, only finishing with the fastener once the elevator doors were closing.

He’d left the mountain ash inside! He squeezed back out through the closing doors and ran back to the room. The bag of ash was nowhere to be seen. Had he left it in the car? He ran back to the elevator, which luckily was still on his floor, repeatedly pressing the button for the garage.

The door opened in the atrium anyway, where Miko was standing, the empty bag of ash in his hand.

“Hey, Stiles, I thought Derek said you were napping.” He smiled, completely relaxed. “Derek and I just finished laying the ash, I was going downstairs to put what’s left back in his car and to restart the roof’s waterfall.”

How was he so calm?

“Where is Derek? Is he hurt? Were you attacked?” asked Stiles frantically. “I heard his howl!”

Miko, looking puzzled, turned around to look toward the pool. “You must have been dreaming. Here he is, just by the pool, talking to Mayana.”

The echo of the woeful sound still haunting him, an irrational need to make sure Derek was alive, that he was all right, made him take off running and, despite his straight A’s in Physics, he forgot all about the relationship between velocity, mass and displacement, pulled a Ponyo jumping hug onto Derek and had them both crashing right into the pool.

His immediate attempts to apologize in bubble talk resulted in Derek pulling a flailing Stiles back forcefully to the surface, probably thinking he was drowning. One hand holding on to the side of the pool, Derek held him above the water with the other one behind his head, his strong arm about Stiles’s torso. 

Gesticulating while trying to explain himself, Stiles just continued his apology, “…blub wasn’t fair at all, blub blub just feeling blob blib for myself and blub blib it out on you…”

“Shh,” said Derek, hugging him tightly and rubbing his neck. “Stiles, calm down! It’s all right, everything is fine, shh.”

Stiles took a deep breath. “But you were howling, and you sounded hurt, hurt and sad!”

“Stiles, I didn’t howl. No one did.” Derek walked the both of them to the far edge of the pool, outdoors, under the darkening sky, where the water was less deep and they could both stand. They stood apart from one another, Derek’s hand lingering a moment on Stiles's neck, then his shoulder. The sound of the roof's waterfall hitting the lake surface giving them some privacy.

“No one howled? Derek, I swear I heard it. It sounded just like you.”

“You’ve heard me howl, what, two or three times, along with my whole pack? There is no way you could distinguish my howl from some other wolf’s. Even my own sisters often mistake my dad’s, Patrick’s and my voice. You must have been asleep.”

“I was in the _shower_ , Derek. It was clear as a bell, and you were hurting, and I realized I had not apologized for being such an ass earlier, and I’m sorry, you’ve given up your time, your studies to protect me, you’re always supportive, and making sure I’m all right and I was so rude to you and…”

“Hey! Hey, listen. I can’t say that being told to back off and mind my own business…”

I didn’d say…”

“You were a little more long winded, but that was pretty much it, Stiles. And I can’t say it didn’t sting a little to hear it, but you were absolutely right. There is a difference between spot-checking that you’re okay, and plain violating your privacy and I think I crossed that line miiiles back. If I focused my senses on another wolf, say… Cora for example, with the type of intensity I’ve been focusing them on you, she’d have punched me in the nose and told me to keep it out of her affairs a long time ago. So I apologize too. You have a right to keep some things to yourself. Even more so, since, as you pointed out, you can’t even retaliate.”

Stiles shrugged. He didn’t want Derek to go back to being distant, like he had been at first. “It doesn’t usually bother me. It’s nice that you care.”

“It did, today.”

Stiles looked down at the water. “I let some stuff get to me that I shouldn’t have, that’s all. I forgot the big picture. Derek, I don’t want to lose your friendship.”

“Did you ever tell Scott to leave you the heck alone?”

Stiles laughed. “I think I said fuck, not heck, but yeah, plenty of times.”

“And he’s still your best friend. Styles, I’m not just going to take my ball and go home. I don’t want to lose your friendship either. You won’t always need me as you do now. Priorities will change in your life, when you find your mate, just like they will change between Scott and you when his pup is born. But he will still be there for you when you need him, you know that. And so will I, you can count on it. I love my family, but you are my closest friend. ”

Stiles was really grateful his face was wet and his hair dripping. “I’m still sorry,” he said.

“Me too.”

“And I heard a howl, Derek. I swear I did.”

“Could you have fallen asleep in the shower?”

Stiles _knew_ he hadn’t been asleep. He knew it! But what other explication was there? “I must have”, he conceded, as they swam back toward the atrium.

Jack was there to help him out of the water. “Feeling better? Miko said he thought you had a nightmare. I wouldn’t be surprised, with the stress you’re under.”

Stiles, dripping in his wet clothes, turned to Miko. “I’m sorry, man. It felt so real.”

Miko smiled. “I had a terrible dream that Nova was lost in a landslide at the mine once. I had to wake her up and hear her voice, just to make sure she was alive, even though I knew she would chew me out for disturbing her sleep. Dreams are powerful. I didn’t let her go to the site the next day. She stayed home and did paperwork instead. She hated it, but she understood. I just couldn’t stand it.”

“Sometimes, it’s good to listen to your dreams,” said Jack. “Your subconscious might pick up on things that you waking mind does not.”

“That’s right, Chewy, you tell him,” said Talulah.

Jack burst out laughing, and his sister explained, “When we were kids, Jack dreamed he was Chewbacca. He talked about it for weeks.”

“Hey, it was an awesome dream, okay? Like the best dream ever! It saddens me, sis, that you’ll never realize the awesome monument of genius that is Star War.” He turned to Stiles. “Am I right, or am I right?”

Stiles lay his hand on Talulah’s shoulder. “I pity you, Talulah. How does your life even have meaning?”

Nova smirked. “Stars Wars is ok. I especially like the romance between Anakin and the girl with the elaborate hairdos, you know, in the good episodes.” She was screaming with laughter as Jack pushed her in the pool, screaming, “Drown, you heathen!”

“If you children are done playing, it’s time to make the pizzas. They’re not going to bake themselves!” one of the older pack members called from the outdoor extension to the kitchen. There was a fire pit there, tables, plenty of seats and a round bread oven. 

It was only when he saw Derek wearing his dark grey pants but now with a blue top that Stiles wondered if he had been naked in the pool, (he rather thought he had been now that he thought of it). Then he realized he, himself, was still wearing Derek’s shirt and was still soaking wet.

“Go and change,” advised Mayana. “The temperature drops quickly when the sun goes down. I just got over the sniffles myself: My SASSH is a seventeen, but my healing’s a one. Go figure! There is nothing worse than a summer cold. Well, actually, a crushed finger is no picnic either.” She showed Stiles her scarred middle finger on her right hand. “That _really_ hurt!”

“I broke my arm once. Six weeks in a cast,” sympathized Stiles

“And they just take it for granted!” griped Mayana, gesturing vaguely to the rest of the pack, already outside. They looked at each other with commiseration.

TBC


	30. The Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last part of the Nevada visit.

Stiles came back down with his regular clothes back on. Mayana was right. It was definitely getting cool. There were two long tables with enough chairs for everyone, and Jack wave to him. “I saved you a spot!” 

They chatted and ate pieces of the different pizzas that kept appearing in front of them, fresh and hot from the oven. After a while, Stiles was slowing down a bit, although the pizza was so good it was hard to resist, when Jack asked, “My mother says you wish I could make a ring for your brother’s mate?”

“Yes, I do, if you were willing. Her name’s Allison. She is an amazing archer. She once dropped two weres who were chasing me through the woods trying to kidnap me for their Alpha. My dad, who’s a sheriff and no slouch with weapons, said he would not even have attempted those shots, even with a rifle. She’s a good alpha, a true shield to her packmates. I’d like to honor that.”

Jack pulled a pencil and a small sketchbook from his pocket, turning to a new page. “So, what were you thinking?”

“Something sober, like an arrow, around her finger?”

Jack made a quick drawing and turned it to Stiles. “Something like that? She could adjust it to fit.”

“Oh, my god! That’s perfect. Exactly what I was picturing.” It was simple and elegant.

Jack smiled, pleased. “Good. That should only take a few hours. I’ll start tonight. You won’t want to leave here too late tomorrow. Not so close to the full moon.”

“Thanks Jack. This is really kind of you. It means a lot that you are willing to do this.”

“I’ll enjoy it, and I know Derek and Miko have already made plans for the pack’s and your safety, so it’s all good.” Jack tore another sheet off of his sketchpad, folded it and passed it to Stiles, resting his large hand on his for a moment, then got up. 

He said loudly, “Well, I’m stuffed, and I have work to do, so you’ll have to clean this huge mess without me.” He ignored the booing, smirking, “Alpha’s privilege!” They all just booed him harder as he laughed and walked away.

~o~

It turned out that Miko was the pack’s Left Hand. Somehow, that all of those most able to defend Stiles should the need arise had to lock themselves in with him in one of the safer underground room was _his_ idea.

He shot down protests that there would not be enough room for a total of eighteen people by reminding them that the entire floor in those rooms was one huge mattress, and that the bathrooms were palatial.

He chose the room next to the refrigerated reservoir, which took care of the expressed concern that they may overheat.

Stiles actually shivered when he first entered. Miko suggested that, following Derek’s example, all those able to shift to wolves should do so, and cuddle close to Stiles to keep him warm. Seven of the women were born to the pack and could, and they curled up around him, while Stiles used Derek as a pillow. 

Stiles and Derek had shared a mortifying conversation earlier on, during which Derek had told him plainly (and against their usual rule about it) that when Stiles had wet dreams, the omega pheromones just poured out of him. He suggested Stiles should wear his boxer briefs under his sleep pants to minimize his embarrassment _in case wetness occurred_ , but pointed out that Stiles should definitely think about “whatever was most helpful” before sleeping, to insure the pack’s maximum exposure to his pheromones. After all, that was the goal.

The room was actually large enough that everyone was comfortable, and after Karl started a joke telling contest (which he won, hands down, telling a good half of them), they actually had a really good time.

Stiles fell asleep wrapped around his Derek pillow from one moment to the next. Unsurprisingly, he dreamt of Derek, nude in a pool, sucking Stiles off as he sat on the edge, and then of them making love in the exact room where they were (although _alone_ in the dream), rolling across the floor as they changed positions, finishing with Stiles bottoming from the top, watching Derek come apart under him. It was a very, very good dream.

Then he dreamt he was swimming, deep under the waters of the lake. There was a line at the bottom of the water, which shone white through the green depths. It continued onto the land as Stiles came to shore, and met another in front of the atrium underneath which his human body slept. They shone brightly under the moonlight. Ley lines, his connection to the living world.

Standing on one he could feel where it joined the great network around the earth, like a web across the land and sea. Looking west, he felt the familiar and warm energy of Nemeton, the Hale pack sacred tree, and smiled. 

He looked up as the power of the earth thrummed through his bones, as the light of the moon filled his eyes and veins, and howled, the melodic howl of his Sorting, calling to his beloved mate, calling to his pack, calling to the souls of wolves passed and the souls of wolves yet to come, smiling at the playful pups running to him, heading his voice, eager to start their journey in this world.

~o~

 

He woke up with a jolt, feeling, as one does sometimes, that he had just fallen back into his body. The only dream he remembered was the one that had made his underwear sticky and uncomfortable.

People were talking around him, soft voices and quiet laughter, and he thought it must be morning. A little left of him lay Nova, dressed again, thank god, her head resting on her mate’s chest. She smiled at him.

“We were all joking about how, when we go camping, the tent ends up smelling of sweat and feet and wet dog, but that even with all of us crammed in here all night, this room smells wonderful.”

Karl laughed. “They are crazy, all of them. Their noses are broken. First, here is the fruit salad bunch over there, who are under the delusion that you smell like…”

“Strawberries!” said Nova,

“Ripe peaches! Yum!” 

“Apples!”

“Orange peel!”

“Hey, my brother thinks I smell like orange peel too!” said Stiles, smiling at the man who’d said that, who’s name, he thought, was Nakai.

“Ha!” said Nakai, ginning. “Told you!”

“Then there is the confused bouquet people,” continued Karl, ignoring him, and he pointed to Miko, who said,

“Lilac!”

and one of the women said, “Roses!”

and Tadi, who may have been Nova’s brother, or cousin, or something, said “Lily of the valley!”

Karl went on. “That weirdo over here, (I can’t even believe I’m related to you, even by marriage!) he thinks you smell like gasoline, because gasoline smells good!”

“Well, I think it does!” said the man, whose name Stiles could just not recall.

“Really?” asked Stiles.

The man shrugged apologetically. 

“Then we have a couple tree huggers,” said Karl.

Raising her hand, a sweet voiced woman said, “You smell like pine wood.” Oh yeah, Stiles remembered, that was Dinah, she turned into a Mexican wolf.

“More like cedar, I think,” said J.C., her husband.

“Now, the weather folks are: that tall gentleman, Pat, over here,” pointed Karl,

“You smell like rain, on sun baked earth,”

“and that lovely lady, Amelia, over there,” he pointed again.

“Like ozone, after the lightning, in a thunderstorm,”

“And then there’s Rozene.” To indicate who he was talking about, he raised his head and dropped it back on her belly, which he apparently was using as a pillow. She swatted at him carelessly, and missed. 

“I don’t even know, Rozene. What are you talking about?” Karl asked.

“Cold! He smells like cold!” she said. Stiles thought that was the conversation he had originally interrupted by waking up.

Karl said, in a “Be reasonable” voice. “Cold is not a smell, sweetheart. Anyone here who thinks cold is a smell, please raise your hand.” He raised his head again, looked around and dropped it again. “Ah! See. No hands. Told you! I love you, honey, you’re my best friend and all, and you did introduce me to my mate so I forgive you for being confused, but _cold_ is not a smell!”

“It is too! When it first snows, and you go outside and it smells all … cold!”

“Rozene, when it snows, it smells like snow. Snow, not cold. So is snow what you mean?” asked Karl.

“Fine. Fresh new snow, when it’s really COLD.”

“Oh dear god. More stubborn than that woman you die, I swear. My condolences, Nakai. Anyway, then, we have the pastry chefs,” continued Karl.

“I think you smell like vanilla,” said Talulah, _her_ head on Karl’s abs. “And by the way, Rozene, I change my vote. I get what smell you mean. That _steam out of your nose-your shoes are going to go scruntch scruntch-even the birds are quiet_ kind of very first snow, right? and it’s freezing and it just smells _cold._ ”

“Right on!” said Rozene, high fiving Talulah over Karl’s head. “Sorry for introducing you to that bonehead with no sense of smell.” She added, elbowing Karl in the shoulder as best she could.

“Ah. It’s okay. He’s a good kisser,” said Talulah.

“Oh. All right, then.”

Karl raised his head and grinned at his mate, before dropping his head back on Rozene’s belly again, none too gently. “Are you two done bonding? I believe I have a survey to finish? So, where was I?

“Pastry chefs. I say Cinnamon!” said Tabitha, who was the gasoline man’s wife.

“See what I mean?” Karl asked Stiles. “They are all crazy. I think they all need to have their senses retested, ‘cause it’s obvious, to anyone who was not raised in this _god forsaken_ desert, to anyone who made his pocket money _all his youth_ mowing lawns in the Corvalis township in Oregon, where people in the summer don’t tan but rust, and where the lawns are lush, that this boy here, sorry, this fine young man, this handsome young fellow, smells like FRESH CUT GRASS!”

“Pfft!”

“Go back to Oregon!”

“Boooh!”

“Sweet heart, you’re insane.”

The man Stiles could not name grinned, “Ha! What you remember so fondly is the smell of the _mower_ , Karl, not of the grass. That’s what you are smelling, and loving right now! The smell of GASOLINE!”

Stiles was laughing. He loved this pack. They were great. For some reason, he knew his trick had worked. There would be babies born next year, he was sure of it.

“You know what smell good?” he asked. “Bacon, fresh bread and coffee!”

“Our young omega is wise beyond his years,” said Pat, who indeed was tall, Stile noticed, as he stood up. As in, perhaps even taller than Jack.

“What time is it?” Nova asked Miko.

“It still early,” he said, checking his phone, “six thirty-five.”

“I don’t care how early it is!” cried Tadi. “I’m starving, and it’s time to eat, damnit!”

“Now, there’s a surprise,” said Nova, laughing.

They all got to their feet and after Miko and Wolf-Derek went out for a quick check outside, to see if there were any surprises on the other side of the line of mountain ash, they all went up to the atrium. 

Tabitha, Pat and Rozene actually made it to the kitchen. The other pack members all stripped and dove into the pool.

Stiles decided go up to the guest room to shower and dress in his own clothes. Once dry, he put on his jeans going commando, and abandoning his boxers by throwing them in the laundry chute along with his towels and the clothes he had used during the past couple of days. The pack was still enjoying the pool, so he headed to the kitchen asking if he could help. He ended up sitting on the island with a cup of coffee, watching the cooks in action.

Rozene asked Stiles gently, “Does the general lack of modesty around here bother you? If it does, I’m sorry. I should have thought about it. It did, me, a little at first. No one in my pack shifted to a wolf. But when Karl, my mate Nakai and I came here to join the pack, after Karl met Talulah, all but four members of this pack shifted fully, and often. It was an eye opener, to say the least. But with time, you kind of forget.”

“No one in my pack shifts all the way either, but we run with the Hales now, so, you know. But they only shift at the full moon, mostly. I guess I never thought about it, but Derek is pretty careful about it around other people. I’d never met a pack that was so casual about nudity as yours before. It doesn’t bother me, per se. I’m more worried about people thinking I’m looking than I am by what I’m seeing, I guess, if you know what I mean. Kind of like in the locker room at school.”

She laughed. “I know what you mean. I was way more embarrassed about being without clothes around Karl, whom I went to high school with, than around Miko or Jack, whom I didn’t even know. Because, you see, Karl _knew_ I was naked. Funny, right?” She shook her head.

Stiles sneezed.

“Bless you!” said Pat. When the other two looked at him funny he said, “Hey, I was raised with humans. My mom, my brother and all my uncles and half my cousins. That’s what you say when a human sneezes. Don’t ask me why! I’m not an ethnologist!”

“Well, Stiles, bless you then,” said Rozene.

“What they said,” said Tabitha. “Oh, no! Are you like poor Mayara?” Are you going to have that weird green jelly stuff coming out your nose?”

Stiles cracked up. “Yeah, sorry. I think I might.”

“Oh well shit,” said Tabitha. “I better wake her up, see if she still has some of that soft square paper for your nose.”

“Don’t wake her. I can use toilet paper. It’s fine.”

“I am not letting you put near your nose something that’s meant to wipe people’s ass, Stiles. That’s just unhygienic. Nope, not happening. Just stay put and… shove your fingers in there to hold the stuff back or something. I’ll be right back.”

Stiles couldn’t help but laugh after she hurried out.

“I’m sorry Stiles,” said Pat. “I don’t think Tabitha has ever met a human before. Except for Mayara, we all have Healing scores of three and above. Mayara’s got fours everywhere else. It’s weird how that works sometime.” 

Mayara showed up in her PJ’s, with a box of tissues, some aspirin and a thermometer. Stiles blew his nose and she shoved the thermometer in his mouth. She pulled it out when it beeped.

“Dude, you’re at 98.2! How are you even alive?”

“Mayara, that’s normal for humans,” said Pat.

“Really? That is so weird. Well I guess you’ll live then. Here, have these tissues for the drive back but I’ll keep my aspirin, unless you have a headache. I hate going to the doctor to get a prescription. I’m saving these for next time. And I’m going back to bed. I’d hug you goodbye now, Stiles, but keep your cooties.”

She had no such qualms about Derek, who had apparently gone down to the car to dress in his clothes again in preparation for their departure, and gave him a nice long hug. Well, Stiles certainly would too, if he got the chance. (To think he’d probably had hugged a _naked_ Derek yesterday, but had been too frazzled to notice. Life was just unfair.)

By eight, except for Mayara, the whole pack was up and about. Jack came in with a smile, saying, “Success! At least I hope so!” and he handed Stiles a tiny box, which was actually two tightly weaved small square baskets that fit into one another. Inside was the fruit of his labors, a gorgeous gold arrow, which would wrap around Allison’s finger beautifully. 

“Successful indeed! Look, Derek. It’s perfect for Allison, isn’t it?” 

It really was. She would love it. Stiles wished, with all his heart, that the gift he hoped he had bestowed on the pack would turn out to be as successful.

His phone rang. He wondered if it was his dad, checking on him, but it turned out to be Emma Pique.

“Pippin, it’s Brynhilda, tell me you’re on the road.”

“We’re not on the road.”

“Get on the road and drive as fast as that penile extension you call a car can carry you.”

“What’s going on?”

“The natives are restless. Shots may have been fired last night, east of the Lake Tahoe Township by persons unknown. Five alphas might be at the Lake Tahoe Township hospital allegedly suffering from Wolfsbane poisoning. The Piques are all accounted for at the time of the assaults, of course, and have confirmed to the authorities their non-involvement in this possible illegal attempt at protection of an omega, who allegedly delayed his departure from Nevada for reasons unknown. Three of the younger members of the Pique family may, or may not be in hot water with their Alpha, who may, or may not have given them a bogus alibi.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Ha, we’ll live. But four more alphas might have been sighted by friendlies, heading east from Lake Tahoe Township, yet unable to be delayed do to the previously mentioned hot water situation. An anonymous call may have been made to a large pack of wolves from a more western township, and some members of that pack may be heading in the direction of the allegedly delayed omega’s last location to offer assistance. However, their present location and velocity is not projected to accomplish their goal unless the allegedly delayed omega’s party proceeds immediately using a less direct but more secure northerly approach and attempts to rendez-vous.”

“Dude, what’s with the spy speak?”

“Shut up, it’s fun. The alleged hosts of the aforementioned omega should prepare for the possible arrival of sorely disappointed, generally impetuous and lacking in self-control alphas. In short, get the fuck out and take the north road. Tell the Humbolts to tighten the hatches, gotta go, my mum’s here.” She hung up.

It was obvious Stiles’s conversation had been heard by all when, as soon as he hung up, all the pack members were on the move, with the focused motions of people following some preplanned emergency drill. Stiles, Derek, Julie and Jack headed to the garage. 

“Don’t worry about us,” said Jack, smiling, as if he guessed where Stiles thoughts had gone. 

“We are not helpless. Our pumps can be used to feed a fire hose, which, believe me, will cool the ardor of any wolf feeling aggressive. We will lower the garage door, and we will seal the building from the atrium with automatic shutters if need be. We also have shotguns loaded with a rock salt, powdered silver and crushed mistletoe, which is a very unpleasant combination to be shot with. Plus, you know,” he made Jazz hands, “pack of wolves! But it won’t come to that, don’t fret. The fire hose does a really good job, you’d be surprised.”

Derek got in the car and drove it to the edge of the ash circle. Stiles took the time for a quick hug to Julie, and a much longer one for Jack. “I wish I’d said goodbye to everyone properly,” he said. “I feel I made so many friends. Please tell them all thank you? All of you are so special.” 

Derek honked, so Stiles bend down, swept a break in the mountain ash circle with his hand and got quickly into the car. As Derek sped away, he didn’t turn around, but saw a metal door seal the garage shut.

“Everything is fine, Stiles,” said Derek. “Don’t worry. We were going to take the northern route as a precaution anyway. It’s just Peter and Samuel driving over to us, not to offer assistance actually, but more to “visit” the idiots in the hospital and be there to reception the other stray alphas upon their return to Lake Tahoe Township, once they recover their senses when A: they get a “refreshing shower” from the Humbolts, and B: they realize you are no longer in attendance.”

“You knew about this already?”

“I talked to Peter this morning. I was about to suggest we head out when Miss Pique called.” He chuckled. “She is very dramatic. I can’t believe her and her brothers took pot shots at those alphas. No wonder her Alpha’s pissed. Miko and I were disappointed there was no one around this morning. He really wanted to show me the fire hose in action, and I was looking forward to it. Oh, well.”

“So, this is not a crisis, is it,” Stiles confirmed.

“Of course not. It is exactly what we expected. Except for Brynhilda and bro.’s itchy trigger fingers, that is. I bet Allison will be horrified when she hears about her fellow Hunter’s lack of discipline.” He chuckled again. ““ _allegedly suffering from Wolfsbane poisoning_ ”! and “ _bogus alibi_ ”! I like her.”

From Derek, that was saying something. Well, this was all very anticlimactic. Very good news though, obviously. 

Stiles would miss the Humbolt pack. Of all the ones they had visited, it was the only one he would regret probably never having a chance to see again. Scott would have loved them. All of his friends would. Perhaps Mayara could spend next summer with them. Then of course Stiles realized he had no clue where he would be next summer and sighed.

He remembered the piece of folded paper Jack had given him the day before. He had decided to wait to look at it until after he left.

He pulled it out of the back pocket of his jeans and opened it. It was a letter.

_Stiles,  
I am aware I cannot offer you all you need in a mate.  
I answered the questionnaire honestly. Those questions I did not relate to particularly, I answered in the spirit that there are things we all know we are capable of, while not necessary feeling the need to do them.  
I can’t deny that when Mr. Deaton called, I had very high hopes. Either that what I do have to offer would be enough, or that your being an omega would give me the ability to feel, on a physical level, something I can only grasp inadequately on an intellectual one.  
As neither has happened, I know that when you leave, we shall most probably never see each other again. So I want you to know, if ever your spirits are down or life is difficult, that at least once, you inspired love, for that is something I can give, and that I give freely to you.  
You are kind and funny, and smart; generous of spirit, and brave and loyal. My world will be bleaker without you, but also richer and more beautiful for knowing that you exist in it.  
If ever you wish or need to return, you will find that our pack, and my heart, will always be open to you.  
Jack. _

Stiles didn’t try to hide his tears from Derek. He was not ashamed of them. Jack deserved so much to be loved. Stiles could just not be the man to love him. He closed his eyes and saw the tall Alpha smiling, happy, sitting with a baby in his arms and a pup on his lap, and hoped. After a moment, he wiped his eyes and blew his nose in one of Mayara’s tissues, folded the letter carefully and slipped it back in his pocket. 

He got the file for Jack Humbolt out and filled it out quietly.  
1\. Personality: Playful, caring, generous, intelligent, gregarious, loving, thoughtful. A wonderful Alpha.  
2\. Looks: Tall, beautiful.  
3\. Scent: Not important. Unchanged by the influence of omega pheromones  
4\. Pack: Wonderful. Welcoming. No children  
5\. Territory: Harsh, dry, beautiful in its own way, rich in essential metals.  
6\. Plan for return visit: Yes, someday perhaps, with my mate.  
7\. Likelihood of a match: None.  
He closed the file and put it away. He blew his nose again. Derek reached for his hand and held it. Despite the discomfort, Stiles leaned over the central console of the Camaro and rested his head on Derek’s shoulder. Taking his hand back, Derek put his arm around Stiles shoulder and held him as he drove. Eventually, Stiles slept.

TBC


	31. A duck and a swan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where are we?  
> After leaving the Humbolt pack a bit precipitously, Stiles and Derek made their way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, some more soon, just paranoid of my wonky Word.  
> Some of you will hate this short chapter. I'm sorry. This story will take however long it wants to tell itself, and STEREK will simmer until ready.  
> I'm not using it as a plot device. It's just the way it has to go.  
> If you can't stand it anymore, go read the first couple chapters of Corollary of Parallel and Divergence, my other WIP, and get a serious dose of STEREK to hold you over... ;)

Just as predicted, the trip home was a complete non event, although Derek must have driven at quite a clip, since they made it under three hours.

They only stopped at Stilinski house to get what Stiles needed for the next few days. Scott had found a job for the year to come at the local vet and Allison was a camp counselor at a day camp, so the house was empty anyway, plus the whole Stilinski pack would be staying at their Hale suite until the full moon. 

His pack never made having to relocate feel like an imposition to Stiles, John always praising the food and the comfort of their quarters, Melissa saying she loved the dessert table on the moon night run, and enjoyed commuting in to work with either Sierra Hale, who was an obstetrician or Henri Hale, another one of the nurses at the Beacon Township Hospital.

Scott often mentioned he loved to run with the pack, letting loose and rough housing with the other young wolves, and Allison and Laura had become good friends to Laura’s surprise. Although she had always be welcoming to Allison, trusting her loyalty to the Stilinski Alpha, she had been conscious of Allison’s Hunters’ origins and close family connection with a woman who had almost wiped out their pack.

Allison had melted away her reservations with her sunshine personality. They had a lot in common. Both had been trained as the future leader of their pack, and were totally badass, and now, both were pregnant. Laura had returned from her seclusion with Tim gloriously happy, and had unhesitatingly shared the good news with her pack as soon as the pregnancy was confirmed. Apparently, the Hale pregnancies were pretty much a sure thing.

As soon as they arrived to Hale house, Joshua showed up needing Derek’s help with something, and Stiles made his way to his home away from home on his own. He dropped his bag in his room and looked around, feeling a bit at sea. He was happily surprised when he heard a timid knock on the quarters door and even more so when he found Erica on the other side.

“Alpha Hale said you may have made it back, so I took a chance,” she said.

Stiles felt as if he’d never been happier to see her in his whole life. “Erica! Come in!”

As soon as he closed the door he grabbed her in a nice long hug. “I’m so glad you’re here! It’s so good to see you!”

Erica, who was not usually known for her diplomacy, was still kind enough not to remark they had seen each other just two nights before. She just hugged him back, and laughed at his enthusiastic welcome.

“Alpha Hale asked my Alpha to bring Liam, to speak to him about something, and he was so nervous, I came along for moral support. I have a feeling it might be bad news about his pack, although I’m not sure how happy he was there. He fit in so well with us. My mom and dad always were hopping for more pups, and he really is like the little brother I never had. I can see why he would be intimidated though; this place is huge! And Alpha Hale scared the shit out of me. I mean, she was perfectly nice and everything, but so intimidating, you know?”

“You? Intimidated? I’m shocked!” teased Stiles, as they sat on the couch in the main room.

“Oh, shut up! And don’t tell anyone I ever admitted such a thing, or I’ll take away your Uncle Stiles title.”

“Erica! My relationship with my almost-nephew is not something you can joke about. I picked a name for him and everything.”

“Oh, I see. It’s a boy, is it.”

“Uh. That’s funny. I thought about boy names for your baby, and girl ones for Allison’s and Lydia’s. How weird is that?”

She grinned. “I think it’s a boy too, actually,” she confided, “but the pool at the Sheriff’s office has Vern having a grand daughter at five to one, and Boyd thinks it’s a girl. So, what’s my boy’s name?”

“Blaise.”

“Blaze?”

“No! Blaise, like Blaise Pascal, a French catholic philosopher, physicist and mathematician. He had this interesting take on God. Like, think of his existence in terms of a bet and look at the odds: if you don’t believe god exists, when you die, you can _at best_ have been right and cease to exist (in which case you don’t even get to tell anyone “I told you so!!”), or, _at worst_ , have been wrong and oops, go to hell which, well, sucks. On the other hand, believe in god, and if _at worst_ , he doesn’t exist, at least, before you kick it, you can look back and feel good about having lived a life of good deeds. Of course, _at best,_ if you were right, and he does exist, you get to go to Heaven, which, yepee!! So basically, any smart person should bet on god’s actual existence.” 

“Oooookay. For some reason, I suspect there might be a lot more to his reasoning than that, but it does sound pretty smart. But Stiles, Blaise Boyd? Really? I just don’t see it.”

“Boyd, not Reyes?”

“Boyd might have left his pack for mine, but he wants to honor them in his first child’s name. My Alpha approves. She has great respect for Vern, and the Boyds are our closest allies, so, Boyd it will be for this pup.”

“Well, there you go messing up my plans. Blaise Reyes sounded so smooth! Blaise Boyd, BB for short? Not so much. Now I have to rethink the whole thing!”

“Stiles. You do know you are NOT naming my child, right?”

“La, la, la, can’t hear you! Did you say something?”

Erica laughed and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m so happy you’re my friend Stiles Stilinski. You make the world a better place, you know?”

Stiles leaned his head on hers, and took a long shaky breath. “So I’ve been told,” he said.

Erica moved back and looked at him. “Hey. You’re okay?”

“Yeah. I’m all right. My life has just been so weird lately. And I guess it would be fine if I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it’s getting a bit murky at this point. It seemed so simple before we started these visits. I’d meet some unmated alphas, one every other day or so, and within a few months, I’d find my mate and bam! Everything would be perfect.”

“What’s changed?” she asked. 

“They are not just _unmated alphas_ anymore. They are Sophie, and Giovanni, and Faolan and Jack. They are people, Erica. People with lives, and packs, and dreams and problems, real people. And they were chosen because I was compatible with them, because of our affinity. Aside from the Tomb Raider, I’ve liked all of them. I relate to them, care about them. I feel awful when the time comes for me to leave, because to each and everyone of them, I’m _the one_ , you know? Because not only do they feel the same connection between us that I do, but they are tricked by my pheromones. I smell like their mate. It’s… heartbreaking. Ever more so with some than others. I hate it.”

Somehow, they had ended in a hug, his chin on her shoulder, smelling the clean floral smell of her shampoo. She was rubbing his back quietly.

“I’m sorry you have to go through this, Stiles. No wonder you smell so heart-sore and defeated. It would have been much easier if the first one you met had been the one, uh?”

“Or if the only one that feels like the one _was_ an unmated alpha,” thought Stiles. He enjoyed being held for a while longer. Erica wasn’t pack, but she was close. Behind her wild and crazy ways, she was a giver. She would be such an awesome mom. 

He ended the hug by asking her, “Hey. How long have you got? You want to play some video games? I have a sweet set up in my room!”

She looked at him for a moment, and answered, “I’m sorry, Stiles. I realize you didn’t mean to say that out loud, but I just can’t unhear it. You’ve fallen in love with someone?”

“Oh, fuck. Please just pretend I didn’t say it. Please?”

Erica looked more serious as he had ever seen her look before, meeting his eyes with her deep brown ones, clearly thinking about it.

“Stiles. When I leave here today, I swear to you on my unborn baby that it will be as if this conversation had never happened. But my senses are only a three, and I can smell your misery, your loneliness. You have to talk to someone about this, if only to lighten the load. Scott’s senses are a five, right? So are Jackson’s. They are going to know something’s wrong. I think Scott is already a bit worried, the way he was looking at you the other night. Won’t you talk to me? As your friend? I know squat about omegas, really, outside the general stuff we’ve all heard. I won’t judge you.”

Stiles rubbed his face with his hands. “You have a mate, Erica. You would know what finding your mate is like. I have no idea. I’ve just been falling in love. That’s bullshit, actually. I have been in love with someone who just _cannot_ be my mate. So it can’t be right, can it? Yet I haven’t had a dream about anyone else since the first time we met.”

“You mean, a “Dream”, dream.” She asked, making quotation marks with her fingers.

Stiles nodded.

“Wow. I had sex dreams with other people, before I Sorted, even though I always knew Boyd was the one. I know Danny had some too, before Mason, even after he Sorted. But for you, no one else? Really?”

“No. No one else.” He frowned and shook his head at her, and wondered, “How do you know about Danny’s sex dreams for fuck’s sake?”

She giggled. “Uh… It just came up one day at school. We were both looking at someone, then we saw each other looking, our eyes met and we just knew we had a “Dream” about the same person. We cracked up, and we joked about it a little, later. Nothing bad. But whatever. How do you know for sure this person cannot be your mate?”

“They can’t be, Erica. They just can’t.”

“Lydia and Deaton don’t even think they know everything there is to know about omegas. They could be wrong. Is it a beta? An alpha who knows they have a mate? You could be that mate!”

“Erica…" He sighed, before biting the bullet and admitting the embarrassing truth. "They are cleaved, okay. _Cleaved._.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah. _Oh._ It’s all kinds of wrong, obviously. I know that. And still, I’m ashamed to say, I researched it. I researched if any cleaved alpha had ever mated again, or even married again. I researched if there was any rumors some had even had sex again. Never, Erica. Not ever. Some have had dreams, you know, “Dreams” about their dead mates. Those are the cleaved ones that fade away, that nothing can seem to help, those that die within weeks or months of their mates. And there is nothing, nothing at all about the omega pheromones ever trumping a previous mating, not when both mates are alive, and certainly not when one of the mates is dead.”

He sighed. “ Omegas mate with unmated alphas. That’s it. That’s all. No betas, no mated betas or mated alphas waiting for their mates, just unmated alphas. No one else.”

“But you love them,” she confirmed.

“I love you, I love Scotty, hell, these days, I even love Jackson. Sometimes. When I don’t hate him,” he said. “I’m _in love_ with them. Their smile, the way they move, the way they smell, their voice, their sense of humor, their looks, their eyes, the way they talk, the way they’re quiet, the way they breathe, who they are, what they do… I try to lie to myself, to find explanations, to ignore it, to bury it away, to reason it away, but the truth is, I know what I am feeling, and _it cannot be_. It just cannot be. What the hell is wrong with me?”

“How do you feel, when they’re not around?” she asked.

“Like a piece of me is missing.”

She nodded. “Yes. Like there is a void in your center that only disappears when they are back. Like you’re hollow, like things can be fun, and you can have a good time, but like you can never be really content, fully happy unless they’re by your side.”

Stiles sighed. “Exactly.”

“Stiles. You _have_ found your mate. I don’t care what the books say, what history says, what... whatever! This person is your mate. And your body knows it. You may not have consummated the bond, but it’s there, initiated. That’s why I’m pregnant, why Allison’s pregnant, why Lydia’s pregnant, don’t you see?”

Stiles got up and started pacing. “Don’t _you_ see Erica, how fucked up things would be if, god forbid, that were true? _They_ don’t feel that way about _me._ They can't. They are cleaved! _They_ could _never_ love me back. They are done. Their heart was buried with their mate forever. If, for whatever fucked up reason, my omega had settled on them as my one and only mate, _I will be alone forever._ ”

Erica put her hand to her lips, her eyes filled with tears. “Stiles, I’m so stupid. Why would you listen to me? There is no such thing as a half bond. If they are not free to love you, to bond with you, they cannot be your mate! That’s what you get for listening to someone with as little understanding of this crap as I do. I’m so sorry. Me and my big mouth.”

She got up, chortling through her tears, and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him a little. “Of course you won’t be alone forever. Of course your mate is still out there. And now I have to dry my eyes. Do you have a hanky?”

“Tissues. Paper hankies.”

“Really? Weird.” She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “I think Allison used some of these once. Humans. You guys come up with the neatest stuff. You can just throw those away, right?”

“Right.”

She went to throw it away into the bin.

“Ooooooh,” she said.

“What?”

“I just had a thought, and it might even kind of sort of make sense.”

“…Oookay?”

“Stiles. You know how you said you feel a connection to all these folks you meet, because they are not your mate, but they are really compatible with you?”

“Yeah.”

“That cleaved alpha. I bet you, if he took the test, if he answered the questionnaire, he would be in like, the top ten, or something. I bet you his compatibility with you is probably _sky high_. And your omega recognizes that. Your actual mate is probably so similar to them, it’s throwing you for a loop. They walk like a duck, they talk like a duck, hell, they smell like a duck, but they are not _your_ duck. Your duck is out there, and your are going to meet them and go, “oh, my god! There’s my duck! This other person was just a swan in disguise!" You know, like the story!”

Stiles looked at her. Wow. It actually made sense. Giovanni had looked a lot like Derek. Sophie had been a lot like him. And even Jack, his love for his pack, his wolf shift. Derek hid his playful side where Jack didn’t, but they also were both kind, protective… Wow. Derek was a swan in disguise. Stiles had a duck, and it was still out there, somewhere in the pond, just waiting for him. 

That was _such_ a ridiculous analogy. He grinned at her. “Erica. Let Boyd tell the fairy tales to Blaise, okay?" He added excitedly, "But I think you might be right. Actually, I know you are right. It’s the only thing that makes sense. You are the most wonderful, most brilliant, most awesome person I have ever known!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” He grabbed her to twirl her around, and wow, she was kind of heavy! However, she had no problem lifting him and swirling him around so it worked, as they laughed their asses off.

“Thank you,” he said wholeheartedly, when they calmed down. “You have no idea. You really, really helped. I’d been too close to the whole thing to see it clearly. Really. Thanks.”

She smiled at him. “I’m glad. And thanks for trusting me with your worries. That means a lot." She rubbed her nails on her shirt, all nonchalant. "Well, my duty here is done. I’d better go and check on Liam and mom. I bet they’re done by now.”

“Were they going to the Alpha’s office or her home?”

“Office, I think.”

“I’ll walk you there. This place is a bit confusing at first.”

They made their way to Talia’s office. The door was open and Talia, Alpha Reyes and Liam were sitting on either side of the Alpha’s desk, just chatting, finished with business, it seemed.

“And there they are,” said Talia. She said to Stiles, “I was hoping you’d walk your friend Erica down, I have a couple things to show you.” She got up and smiled at Alpha Reyes. “A pleasure, as always. The generosity and hospitality of the Reyes pack is an example to the rest of us. Liam is obviously happy in your care.”

“We are happy to have him. Thank you for your trust. Good bye, Alpha Hale.”

“Good bye, Alpha Hale,” said Liam, shyly. “Thanks for worrying about me.”

“Bye Liam. Good to see you Erica, and congratulations, your mating and your scholastic success garnered respect for your pack. You are an asset to them.”

“Thank you.” Both Erica and her Alpha glowed at the compliment. “Good Bye, Alpha Hale.”

TBC


	32. Concequences and politics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, Erica thought she figured out how Stiles could think he might be in love with a cleaved Alpha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erica is wrong, of course. This is a STEREK fic. Have faith, people! :)
> 
> Also, I've reread this a hundred times, and I find mistakes every damn time. But I got to get some sleep, so, I'm sorry.

Stiles closed the door, and Talia opened her arms to him, hugging him in greeting. Stiles breathed in deep, enjoying the flow of feelings he always got when smelling his mother’s perfume. She smiled at him knowingly, and pointed to the sitting area. 

“You seem happy! Go sit, I’ll be right with you.”

She came back with a few papers she put on the coffee table, and made herself comfortable, sitting in her favorite love seat with her feet tucked under her.

“Derek said you both liked the Humbolt pack very much. I met Julie and Jake, Jack’s father, in the past. They are neighbors to the south of one of our close allies. They were fine people. Derek suggested she should perhaps offer to host their youngest member, next summer, leading to closer ties with them, a mark of his high esteem indeed.”

“They are wonderful people. Do you know if they are okay? Some trouble was heading their way when we left.”

“Yes. Their Left Hand spoke with Peter. They are fine. One of the young alphas had regained control of herself and had already returned to the university by the time Peter arrived there. Another left the Humbolt’s territory as soon as he heard you were gone, and the two last ones recovered their senses and went back “with their tail between their legs after a good soaking” he told Peter, although I’m not sure what that means.”

Stiles smiled. “Miko was waiting for them with a fire hose. I’m thinking they were swept ass over teakettle down the bank and into the lake. The hose water is refrigerated, too.”

“Oooh! I’d have paid good money to see that. Fire hose, uh? That is very creative.”

“I think Derek was disappointed to have missed it.”

The Alpha chuckled. “I bet. Anyway. The young lady who had returned to her dorm before even crossing into Humbolt territory decided to drop out of the summer quarter and go home to regroup. That was very mature of her. She will have no problem continuing her studies in the fall. All the others, without exceptions, were expelled from the university, since they had entered another pack’s territory without permission, which is a clear cause for dismissal in the university bylaws.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t think I would create so much trouble for people by staying the night with the Humbolts.”

“Stiles, once granted permission from a pack to visit, you have every right to go into their territory and stay there as long as they give you leave to do so. None of this is has anything to do with you. These young people and their pack fully bear the responsibility for their actions. Being expelled is the least of their worries.”

She picked up the papers on the table. 

“I have here letters I received from the Alpha of the Smith pack, from Colorado, and the Alpha of the Permian pack from New Mexico. Both Alphas have taken responsibilities for their packmembers’ actions and have apologized to me for what could have been construed as disrespect for my express desires or for the Hale pack at large. Even knowing you were never in any danger, as they have no doubt of our ability to insure your safety, they have decided their wayward alphas should discontinue their studies until such a time when they could prove their control to their Alphas’ exacting standards. They blame themselves for their obvious failure to train their pack members adequately before sending them out into the world.”

She placed two of the sheets of papers back on the table. “They will, as well, have send an apology and some type of tribute to the Humbolts for having so disrespectfully breached their territory.”

She smiled at him. “I believe you will probably find they have sent you letters of apology as well, and most probably some compensatory offerings in recognition of the distress their packs has caused you. As I am sure your Alpha will advise you, it would be best to accept whatever they sent without acknowledgement, so the matter can be considered closed.”

“You are not kidding,” said Stiles, astonished.

“No, Stiles. These young alphas were very foolish. Since they are not able to control themselves, they should not be allowed to leave their territories. This is the proper response from these Alphas to what has happened. I would not expect any less from them.”

She sighed. “Now, this next response is also proper, although perhaps more difficult for you to accept.”

She took a moment, and Stiles guessed she was gathering her thoughts, trying to present what was coming in the best possible way for him to understand.

“The Alphas we just discussed reacted to the situation as a matter external to their pack. These two next Alphas approached it as an internal matter. The young alphas’ intent to force mate with you was seen as disobedience of their Alphas’ direct wishes, and interpreted as challenges to their Alphas’ leadership. Once they returned home, the challenges were answered, as they should be, in single combat, with the leadership of the pack in the balance. Both existing Alphas won their duels. Both young alphas are dead.”

“Oh my god! Taliah, how could they? How can this be right?” cried Stiles.

She leaned forward and grasped his hands. “Stiles. You live in the Beacon Township. You have been traveling to established, secure packs. This is not the situation everywhere. Some Alphas rule by force. Some packs are at war, or at least, in very precarious positions where any weakness might lead to grave consequences. For whatever reason, these Alphas did not feel they could afford leniency, or show anything that might be interpreted as less than absolute control.”

She squeezed his hands in emphasis. “These young people were aware what they were returning home to. They could have asked for temporary refuge from the Lake Tahoe township; for permanent refuge from packs related to their families but not allied to their packs; from packs known for their strength and benevolence, or even from their own packs’ enemies. They chose to fight their Alphas, and they lost. It is our way, Stiles. The way of the wolves, the way of the pack, even if around here, we are rarely witnesses to it. I am sure you have heard how Camden Lahey came to lead the Lahey pack. Both he and his father made a choice that night, and in the end, Camden was lauded for it. It is not for us to judge other packs internal matters.”

Stiles stood and went to look out the French windows, onto the garden. He knew his pheromones had been weak enough on the wind to only warn alphas of his presence, not overwhelmed their senses, and that the full moon had still been far enough away to have minimal impact on their decisions. 

Everyone knew of the Hales’ protection, of the consequences to their pack if an unmated alpha force bonded with him. Alpha Reyes had run off the night of his sorting, to insure she would not lose herself to her instincts. Coach Finstock, and (thank god!) Mr. Harris had both been in daily contact with him, even closer to the full moon, and controlled themselves just fine.

Uncomprehendingly, these university students had decided to leave their dorms, get in their cars, illegally enter another pack’s territory, find him and mate with him, whether he wanted to or not, damn the consequences. What had gone on in their heads? Stiles wondered if it would be crazy for him to contact the girl who had turned around before she made a terrible mistake and ask, because, really, it made no sense to him.

But Talia was right. He refused to take responsibility for their actions: He had mostly kept his head through the upending of his world. He had asked for none of this. He was sorry for these alphas. But it had nothing to do with him, just like he had had nothing to do with Sorting an omega.

Still looking outside, he asked Talia, “That’s five of them. There were nine, weren’t there?”

“Yes, there were. Alpha Montrose, to his discredit, sent a message to his son, only calling him by his first name and simply telling him he was no longer part of the Montrose pack, his name erased from their records as if he had never existed. This was both appalling and dishonorable, and I am sure Alpha Montrose will someday regret his reprehensible behavior. It shines a very poor light on him personally, and on his pack for allowing him to continue as their Alpha.”

He turned back towards her. She looked thoroughly disgusted with the man.

“Thankfully, the native pack of his university adviser, the Ferrier pack from Wisconsin, has already offered to welcome the young man on his adviser’s recommendation. He apparently earned the man’s good opinion through his three years at university. After some trial time, might even find a permanent place within that pack.”

Stiles came back to his chair and sat back down.

“As for the three remaining offenders, the Left Hand of their pack, the Ruxburg pack, from Idaho, is on his way to meet with Peter, before escorting them home.”

“Three were from the same pack?” That was weird.

“The Alpha’s daughter and his two nephews.”

“Uh.”

“They were traveling together. After they were taken to the hospital, having been shot by persons unknown, three long range rifles were found in their car, although the bullets were normal ones, as are used to hunt large prey.”

“I thought werewolves hunted with teeth and claws.” What a thing to say, thought Stiles, irritated at himself, when just told these people might have been planning on taking out the whole Humbolt pack from a distance just to get to him.

“Most do. Some self-sustaining packs living far from everything, who minimize their contact with the outside, such as the Ruxburg pack in Idaho, sometimes hunt with rifles. There is much less effort involved than in hunting as a pack. Also, these types of rifles can be used to protect the borders of a territory with large swatches in dispute, which happens to also be the case for the Ruxburg pack in Idaho.”

“But they didn’t have wolfsbane bullets?” asked Stiles. Sounded to him like a pack of isolationist nuts.

“A bullet through the head will kill anyone, Stiles.” Jeez Louise…

“And they had three packmembers in college? That doesn’t seem to fit with the rest of their image.”

She picked up another paper from the table. 

“One of the boys studied forest and game management. The girl was getting her Masters in geology, specializing in geothermal energy. The last boy was studying pack psychology. They have had students at the Lake Tahoe university off and on for twenty years, since the current Alpha won his position from his mother in single combat. A man with a vision, perhaps.”

All the things they studied would be beneficial to a pack living in isolation and autarky. “I take it their Alpha did not send you an apology?”

“Peter suggested their Left Hand visit before Alpha Ruxburg would have had time to do so. I am sure he had his reasons.”

She gave him an apologetic smile and said, “I am sorry to burden you with all this, but Derek seemed to think withholding this type of information from you would, how did he put it? Eventually come back to bite us in the ass, I believe. He seems to think that you would rather struggle with the truth than be kept in the dark, and of course I trust his instincts.”

Peter had his reasons? He had no doubt she knew very well her Left Hands intentions. They were of one mind, these two, she the brain and he the brawn, she the heart and he the face, she the leader, he her enforcer. For a moment, Stiles considered what it must be like for them to be leading a pack with as many responsibilities as the Hales.

“I always knew I didn’t want to be an Alpha,” he thought out loud, “but for a minute, when I visited my uncle’s pack last summer, I entertained the idea that I might want to be a Left Hand. Now I realize I do not have the first clue about what interpack politics might entail, and I think it is best left to people less naïve and gullible than I am.” 

He leaned his head on the back of his chair and said, “Now, my professional goal is to snuggle sleepy pups, play video games and be in the thick of things, so I can bestow my sarcasm on everyone and know everything that goes on, while having no influence on interpack politics whatsoever, and give awesome hugs to packmembers who look like they need it. Is that the description of an actual job within a pack, or should I learn a trade?”

Talia chuckled. “Aside from the video games, I think that sounds like what Joshua does.”

“I am so telling him you said that,” threatened Stiles, grinning.

“I didn’t say that was _all_ he did, did I?” she answered, smirking.

“I better find out from him what else the role of second entails, then. I don’t want to base my choice of career on incomplete information.”

Talia laughed at him. “Well, I have work to do. I’m kicking you out. I would suggest you go and check out our library. Do you know where it is?”

“You have a library? Where?” asked Stiles, excited.

“In the heart of the house. Just ask whomever you meet, they’ll point you to it. Knock before going in, it’s a public space, but for some reason Peter likes to use it as an office. He loves the smell of books.”

“I do too. I’ll go check it out.”

~o~

He didn’t need guidance after all. He just seemed to remember where it was somehow. He knocked, and when there was no response, he walked in. Did he smell smoke? He took a large breath. Maybe. The smoke of a fire long extinguished. When he turned to close the door behind him, he felt the pain memory of a searing burn in his hand as he touched the round brass knob.

The library had always been central to the house. It had been the pack’s last refuge during the fire. How much of it had been saved? Had the house been rebuilt around it? He looked at the herringbone pattern of the wooden floor, and remembered crawling on it, his left hand so tight in someone’s grasp. Peter’s. 

Peter had trusted and followed a little boy out of this room, and through the long hallway and across the large entrance hall, amid the flames, the smoke, the fallen debris, and Rumi had forced himself to go on, despite the pain, despite the heat, and he'd scrunched up his face before grasping and turning the front door knob, knowing now how much it would hurt, but he’d done it anyway, leaving burned flesh behind. He had seen the mountain ash, and had instinctively known what to do, sweeping it aside with small pudgy fingers, their skin cracked, black and bleeding.

He’d heard a shot, and a roar, and someone had carried him and laid him on the soft green grass outside, but he had gotten up, and half stumbled half ran to tear to its roots the ash covered grass around the blond laughing monster who would have killed his Peter.

Then there were mommy’s arms, and the sweet scent of her neck, and a crying pup in Peter’s bleeding hands. The baby had looked right at Rumi, and Rumi knew his name. “His name is Pip.”

Then Daddy came, and took his pain away, but he cried and cried as they left in the funny red car with a bed in it, because they were alone now, Dad, Mom, and him, and he would be apart from his other pack for a long, long time.

 

Peter came in the library, whistling tunelessly and Stiles threw himself at him, shocked for just a moment that they should be the same height, and hugged him hard. “You trusted me, you followed me and you killed the monster, and you held Nina’s gift in your hands!” he cried.

“I did,” said Peter, hugging him back, laughing and crying all at once. “I did, you remember!”

“You were my Peter,” said Stiles, without embarrassment. 

Peter smiled, no trace of his usual irony in it. “I was. You were three and a half, and you were my best friend. I’ve missed you so much!” They hugged tightly again, and Stiles smiled.

“I feel like I’ve come home. I know this place. I know this pack. It’s like I’ve come full circle.” 

He looked at the library stacks. “There was this book I loved. You’d taken it out of order and put it on the bottom shelf so I could look at it anytime I wanted.”

Peter smiled warmly. “It’s still there. Strange choice for a toddler, but you were always careful with it, so I let you have at it.”

There was a soft knock on the door, and an older woman leaned in. “Peter, Philip Ruxburg is here.”

Stiles looked at her, and knew immediately who she was. “Hi, Mona. Cookies, please?”

Mona looked surprised, then laughed. “You remember my cookies? Then you know the answer. Not so close to lunch, Ru… uh, Stiles!” She turned to Peter. “I’ll bring him up, shall I?”

Peter nodded.

“Well, I’d better go, “ said Stiles.

“You don’t have to if you came to read. You can get your book, and go sit in your old seat, in the window alcove. He won’t even know you’re there. Besides, it won’t take long.”

“Won’t he smell me? Hear my heartbeat?”

“You smell like pack, Stiles, and well, omega. He’ll just think it smells really good in here. There are a lot of heartbeats throughout the house. Unless you want to go, you’re fine here. Just stay out of sight.”

“Okay.” He unerringly went to find “his” book, on the bottom shelf, close to the reading alcove. He slid it out, so much smaller and lighter than he remembered and sat on the down filled seat cushion of the window seat, that nestled his body just right, even now that he was all grown up. He was about to open the book when a man entered. Peter’s desk and that whole side of the library was perfectly reflected in the alcove’s curved window's glazing.

The Ruxburg’s Left Hand had reddish blond hair, and a forgettable freckled face. He was the same height as Peter, but lean and wiry, looking very tough and resilient. He walked in, his hands in the pockets of his jeans; his eyes, rudely, were glowing bright red. 

Peter, who was standing in front of his desk, leaning carelessly on it, just chuckled mockingly. “Don’t worry Philip. I remember you are an alpha.”

The man’s eyes turned back to human, although Stiles could not distinguish their color in the reflection. “I was summoned by the mighty Hales. Say what you have to say, so I can go on with my day.”

Peter shrugged and started. “Three of your alphas violated the sanctity of the Humbolt’s territory as the omega was in residence. I can think of only four ways this can be interpreted.  
One, they are slaves to their instincts and your pack’s training of its younger members is appallingly deficient, in which case your Alpha is incompetent.  
Two, they are rebellious and willful, doing as they please, in which case your Alpha is inept.  
Three, your Alpha was under the impression that Alpha Hale’s warning of consequences should the omega come under attack was nothing but posturing, in which case your Alpha is an imbecile.  
Finally, four, regardless of the known consequences, your young alphas were ordered to take the omega by force and bring him to your territory, in which case, your Alpha has sentenced your entire pack to death.  
Have I missed something, Philip?”

The man’s body was tense, his jaw tight. Stiles wished Derek were here to tell me what his scent would reveal. He said nothing.

“I didn’t think so,” said Peter. “So, within forty-eight hours, starting now, your current Alpha will be dead, replaced hopefully by one who is neither incompetent, inept, stupid, or willing to see his pack erased from the face of this earth. The full moon is always an excellent time for a new Alpha to secure his or her control over a pack. Perfect timing, I should say. Have a safe trip back to Idaho, Philip.”

As the man left without a word, Peter accompanied his departure by playfully saying, “Tic-toc, tic-toc, tic-toc…”

As soon as the door closed, Stiles was out of the alcove. “Oh, my god! What the hell was that?”

“That? That was a coward, Stiles. I insulted his Alpha repeatedly to his face, and he just stood there. He is an embarrassment to Left Hands everywhere. I would kill anyone who even suggested about Talia the mildest thing I clearly stated about his Alpha.”

“You knew he might try and kill you and you still said those things?”

“He should have tried. But he and I both know he would have died. And he valued his life above his Alpha’s honor. His Alpha should gut him from hip to throat when he gets home. He deserves it.”

“How can you be so sure you would have won?”

Peter smiled grimly. “I have fought Alphas all my life, Stiles. They are stronger, faster, more agile than me. Their senses are sharper, they heal instantly from the wounds I inflict. They know they can subdue me. So do I. They want to tear my throat out, or rip the beating heart from my chest. I just need them dead, I don’t care how. Stupidly, none of them has ever caught on that they should just kill me the quickest way they can, be it dirty, slow, devious or underhanded. Alphas are noble creatures, I guess. Or they have an overwhelming sense of fair play, or of aesthetics. I… do not. I just make sure I’m the one who walks away.”

He chortled. “Philip’s claws ripped his pockets, he reeked of outrage and wrath. But more potent yet was the smell of fear, of pure sheer fear.”

He gave Stiles a smile that Stiles found endearing, because it was so _Peter_ , but that would have been extremely disturbing, had he not known him. 

“I do love the smell of fear on an alpha. Makes me peckish. Shall we go get some lunch?”

Stiles laughed, and walked along with Peter, who discussed Pip’s newfound love of Lacrosse, for which he squarely blamed Stiles, Stiles forgetting the question he had asked of Peter earlier, which the man had so skillfully side stepped.

~o~

 

As stiles was about to go get another serving of ice cream, Michael appeared next to him and said, “I wouldn’t if I were you. You don’t want to puke in the middle of training, do you?”

Michael used to carry him around on his shoulders all the time, because Rumi always wanted to go with the big kids, but could never keep up. He used to hold him tight against his body and wrap a big secure arm around the toddler when they lay on the forest floor at the fire pit. Rumi would fall asleep, warm and safe. Stiles looked at Michael with a big smile. “You’re training me? Today?”

“Yeah. One on one. Tim is doing jujitsu with the teens, and Laura has got the tumbling with the little one covered. You’re all mine!” He tried to look evil, but fell about three miles short.

“When do you want me?”

“How fast can you get your running clothes on?”

“I’ll be back in ten minutes!”

“Good. Meet me at the edge of the woods, next to the path to the Nemeton.”

Stiles didn’t have to think to know where that was. He remembered now, from playing in the woods from the day he could walk.

Michael was waiting for him, doing pull ups from a branch to pass the time.

“Show off,” said Stiles.

Michael smiled. “Just putting my time to good use. How many pull ups can you do?”

Stiles jumped up and grabbed the branch. He stopped at nineteen, both because he was done in and because the bark was killing his hands.

“Not too bad,” said Michael.

“How many can you do?” asked Stiles curious.

“Forty-three per minutes. Four thousand two hundred and thirty four, in twenty-four hours when I was fourteen, for a foolish bet with Peter.”

“Stupid werewolves,” grumbled Stiles.

Michael laughed good heartedly. “So Derek says you’ve played chase before, which is good, and that he taught you how to use trees as cover as you run, and that you learned basic skills at confusing your tracts. What I want to teach you today is the art of escaping when caught. Even if you run well, you’re human, any werewolf will eventually catch you. But can they hold on to you after they do?”

He pointed to the forest. “Go ahead and run. I’ll give you a twenty-second start, then catch you, and I’ll show you what I mean.”

Stiles went all out, concentrating on forward motion, remembering not to turn back. Michael’s arms came around him in an inescapable hold when he caught him.

“You heard me coming, right?”

“Yeah.”

“There is a point where my catching you is inescapable. The only thing you might control is HOW I catch you. Now, go again. When you feel me closing in, let your left arm trail back.”

Stiles did. Michael caught him by the arm. “See, before, you could not escape the hold. But your arm was trailing, the person chasing you won’t be able to resist. They want to catch you, they’ll take the bait. That’s when you use the anchor they create to pivot on the ball of your left foot and nail them in the balls as hard as you can with your right foot or knee, depending on how close they are.” 

He shrugged. “You probably will miss. But if you’re lucky and get close they will let go of you and give you a second to run away again. If you are awesomely lucky, you’ll nail them right in the balls, they’ll drop to the floor, their hands on their crotch. Then you kick their nose from below and upward as hard as you can. It will drive the nasal bone and the crista galli into their frontal lobe, and you can take off running again, leaving behind a very unhappy werewolf.”

“It won’t kill them though, right?” asked Stiles, worried.

“Why, you want them alive? If they are chasing you, it means Derek is either fighting enough of them that he is losing and he told you to run, or he is already dead.”

Oh. “So, it _will_ kill them, right?”

“Now, that’s the right attitude! Okay. Let’s try it. Don’t worry, I’m wearing a cup, and please forgo the kick to the nose, all right?”

And that was just the beginning. There was the “Fall down and trip them into a tree”, the “Grab a stick as you run, sling shot yourself around a young tree and stake them in the guts”, and on, and on, always with the reminder that the chances of it being successful were small, but if he did work, “Kick them while they're down” was the order of the day, from “Pop their eyes out of their sockets with your thumbs and rip them out,” to “If there is a rock handy, crush their skull,” or, “Drive a stick through their temple,” and on, and on…

After four hours of training, Stiles felt both empowered and sick to his stomach. He needed a shower for more reason than one. 

Michael, at the end, ruffled his hair apologetically and said, “Sorry, kid. Killing people is a dirty job. That’s why we train, so people leave the township alone, and we never have to do it.”

Stiles could not help but think about Peter, as he showered. How many people had the Left Hand had to kill, before alphas feared him too much to attack him? Then he shivered, even though the shower was quite warm. If the Ruxburgs failed at removing their Alpha, would the Hales really “erase his pack from the face of the earth?” Would they kill everyone, including children, babies? The Ruxburg pack had weapons, long range riffles, probably others. How many of the Hale pack would die in a battle with the Ruxburgs? How many Ruxburgs were there? What if they were a huge pack?

He came out of the shower profoundly disturbed by the repercussions of his having spent a night away from home in the flimsy hope of helping the couples of the Humbolt pack conceive.

He wished Derek were here. He would answer Stiles’s questions. 

It was the one thing he hated about being at the Hales. He never knew where Derek was, or when he would see him. And now that he understood, thanks to Erica, why he was attracted to Derek, that what he felt for him was an echo of what he would feel for his mate, that his mate was so like Derek it confused his instincts, he no longer was ashamed of his feelings for the cleaved alpha. They were a mirage, an ghost. They were not real.

It would be much easier to ignore them knowing that, to deal with Derek as a friend, now.

~o~

He was wondering how to go about finding him when someone knocked on the door. Dressed, but still wiping his hair, he went and got it. Derek was standing there, smiling at him, and he felt the peace of mind he had just acquired run out like water from a bathtub.

By the time he reacted, and mentally pushed the plug back in, you could hardly have bathed a pygmy marmoset, but, well, it was better than nothing.

“Hey Derek, come in!”

“I can’t do that.”

Right. No Hales in the Stilinski space, Alpha’s order.

“Oh, right. What’s up?” 

“Scott has been trying to reach you, but apparently you are not picking up the phone.”

Stiles’s hand went to his pocket and he remembered he’d changed his jeans at his house and had left it there. With the gift for Allison, and the letter from Jack. “Crap, I left it at the house, in my room. I don’t have Allison’s ring, either. I really wanted to give it to her this weekend!”

“Well, he just came home from work, and he said something arrived at the house for you, and that you might want to come home if you had time,” said Derek, “and no, he didn't know what it was.”

“Well, obviously I have time. Do you, though? You must be sick of driving.”

“Stiles, it’s not that far. Let’s go. We can pick up Scott, and Melissa if she wants to squeeze in the back too. He’s done for the day, but the rest of your pack won’t be home for a couple of hours.”

“Oh, cool! Thanks, Derek.”

Less than thirty minutes later, the Camaro pulled up in front of the house. A BMW Z4 roadster with STILES license plates was being downloaded from a car carrier truck. Stiles cracked up.

“My dad is going to have a fit,” he said, as he and Derek got out of the Camaro. 

The roadster was being driven forward in the driveway, Melissa having evidently broken the ash circle to let the driver in. She and Scott were standing in the path to the house with matching smiles.

The guy came out of it, wiped his prints off the door handle and joked to Stiles, “Now, I’m not gonna have to come back and take this all the way back to Napa again, am I?”

“Nah. Probably not,” said Stiles.

“All right then,” the man said. “Enjoy!”

After closing the circle of ash behind him, Stiles and Scott went to admire his new ride. 

“Sweet wheels,” said Scott.

There was an envelope on the passenger seat with Stiles’s name on it. He opened the door and picked it up. Inside was a card that said, “Thank you” and some pictures. 

The first showed Giovani and Lorenzo, standing face to face in front of a man in a cassock, a beautiful vineyard in the background. The second showed them kissing, and the third, walking towards the camera, with grins on their faces, being pelted with flowers and candy by their pack. The last one was a selfie with Giovani smiling at the camera, Lorenzo looking at him as if he’d hung the moon.

Inside the card two notes were written.

“Here is your car back. Sorry, but it has been crowding my garage and I can’t store it for you any longer. Giovanni.”  
“PS: tell your father, no strings attached.”

And

“In our vows, I promised to support him in his role, to give him assistance when he needs it and to love him for who he is, and I meant every word. I want to be the man he deserves. Thank you, Lorenzo.”

Stiles smiled at Derek and handed him the photos. “They got married!”

Derek looked at the photos with a small smile. “They are lucky. Not everyone gets a second chance. You gave it to them. You should feel good about that.” He passed the photos back.

Stiles looked them over again and said, “Some things are just meant to be.”

His eyes met Derek’s who just looked back at him for a moment. Stiles turned away again, not wanting to imagine something that could not be.

“Sometimes, the hardest part is to figure out which are, and which aren’t,” he heard the alpha say softly to himself, “and how to tell the difference.”

Before Stiles had a chance to ask what he meant, Scott, who had sat in the driver’s seat and had been playing with the seat's adjustments poked his head out of the door.

“Love this car, man! But that wasn’t even why I called. Go take a look in the house!”

Inside there was a cardboard box with a letter attached to the outside. Stiles read it out loud.

 

Omega Stilinski,

Please accept my personal apology on behalf of the Smith pack.  
Considering you are under the Hales' protection, you, of course, were never at risk, yet it distresses me greatly that measures had to be taken to insure your safety because of the actions of one of our packmembers.  
There is nothing our pack could do to improve your current level of security; however, we hope to help increase your peace of mind in this stressful time with a donation, made in your name, to the Beacon Township’s sheriff department. Please find a sample included.

Martin Smith, Alpha.

 

Melissa providing a pair of scissors, the box was soon opened to revealed a bullet proof vest. Upon checking on the Internet, Stiles found out it wasn’t just any vest, but the absolute best one available on the market. 

The Smiths were from Colorado, and their pack’s territory included Telluride canyon, one of the most popular ski resorts in the United States. They had no connection with the manufacture of body armor. They had therefore done some research to find a gift that would be particularly meaningful to Stiles. 

When he called his dad at work, he found that twenty-eight more vests had arrived at the station, enough to equip every Sheriff’s deputy, as well as anyone of the employees that might ever be caught in the line of fire. Their most recent body armor had been five years old, bulky and chafing and reserved to deputies on duty. These were light and comfortable, easily fitting under the uniform. 

His Alpha made sure to tell him to do nothing to acknowledge the gift, regardless of how appreciated it was. Stiles could not even call Martin Smith and thank him. Whatever! Interpack relations were weird. 

Stiles had also received a letter from the Alpha of the Permian pack, of New Mexico.

 

Omega Stilinski,

The action of a pack member reflects directly on that pack’s Alpha, as well as the rest of the pack. Alpha Stilinski, as both your father and Alpha, must take great pride in the honor you have brought to him and your pack: Not by your sorting, since as you often point out, you were not in control of it, but by the strength of character, resilience and grace you have shown under the pressure put upon you because of it.  
Would that every Alpha and parent have such cause for pride in the action of their progeny. Alas it is not to be so, and I find myself greatly shamed for having raised a pup who brought dishonor to the Permian pack by being allowed to enter the greater world before he was ready.  
However, because he is only a year older than you, I hope I know boys your age enough to gift you with something you will appreciate in an effort to compensate for whatever anxiety his behavior might have caused.  
Please find enclosed a gasoline card from the Permian Gas Company, which has a point of sale in your township, with a thousand dollars credit, which will be renewed on your Sorting moon every year.  
Wishing you the best of luck in your search for a mate, and all your other endeavors,

Marian Vermeren, Permian Pack Alpha.

 

“Wow,” said Scott who had been reading aloud above his shoulder. “A car and gas for life on the same day! Very nice.”

“These letters are so different in tone. One is business like, right? And Alpha Smith seem very concerned not to offend the Hale pack, as if he assumes Alpha Hale will read the letter. Their donation, not that I am not grateful, mind you, is also a big public gesture.  
The other comes from an Alpha, but also a mom, and is so much more personal. She’s given me something she think I will like, because her son would, and she sounds like she loves him even though right now she really wants to hit him upside the head for making an ass of himself.”

“Each Alpha is different, and their packs are a reflection of who they are,” said Melissa. “Before we joined your father’s pack, I lived through an Alpha transition, and saw for myself how different a pack can become under new leadership. Hopefully, you will only encounter packs whose well being is their Alpha’s priority, although it seems to me that Ruby-the-Pole-Dancing-Logger-Women fell short of that one. You kids are lucky. The packs in the township are generally well cared for, and we benefit from the overview of the Alpha council. We have it really good, believe me!”

“Yeah,” said Stiles. “I’m starting to see that. Let me go get my phone from upstairs. We should head back. Scott, you wanna ride with us?”

“Can I take your car instead? I’m sure Allison would love it,” asked Scott, puppy eyed expression at full strength.

“Dude, I don’t think she likes the jeep much more than the back seat of the cruiser,” answered Stiles stupidly.

Scott just rolled his eyes and stared at him, waiting for Stiles's obviously addled brain to catch up.

It did. “Oh! Duh! I’m an idiot. Of course you can take the car. Beware, though, I have it on good authority some people feel men who drive these types of cars are trying to compensate for something. A lovely young lady of my acquaintance referred to the Camaro as a penile extension. I’m just saying!”

Scott unwittingly turned to Derek who only had to raise an eyebrow at him for Scott to immediately look as if he wished he was anywhere but within the reach of the alpha. 

He swallowed and answered, his voice (Stiles was proud to note), only slightly squeaky. “She obviously has no clue what she’s talking about, or she was just jealous. There is nothing wrong with a man’s love for a fine driving machine.”

“Good save, Bro,” Stiles said as Melissa tried to hide her laughter. “The keys are on the ignition. Don’t forget the ash in your excitement. I’d hate for you to hit the windshield as you back up.”

He ran up the stairs to grab his phone and the gift Jack had made for Allison. He took out Jack's letter and looking around, decided to put it in the top drawer of his nightstand.

Derek was already waiting by the door, the bullet proof vest in his hand. Stiles looked at him questioningly.

“You should wear it. Just in case,” Derek said, opening the door.

“Derek, that’s stupid. If anyone should wear it, it’s you."

Stiles opened and closed the circle of ash, and they got in the car.

"People don’t want me dead," he added. "They want to rape me. I need a chastity belt, not a vest. You, on the other hand…”

Derek growled. “I heal.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Wolfsbane?”

“A stray bullet could hit you.”

“Oh, come on, Derek. It actually makes sense for you to wear it.”

“People who shoot werewolves shoot for the brain,” answered Derek, stubbornly.

“Oh, I’m feeling so much better now, thanks. You could still wear it, you know. They might go for the easier body shot. You could be momentarily incapacitated, and it would leave me unprotected.”

Derek’s eyes flashed red at the idea of a vulnerable Stiles. “I can't wear it. I couldn’t shift.”

“Au contraire, mon frère!” said Stiles. “This is a well designed high quality garment. It’s has…” He pulled up the page he had checked on his laptop earlier on his cellphone, “Pleated reinforced extensions and relief folds which allow a full shift without encumbrance.” Ha!”

Derek lifted the vest with his right hand and gave it a quick baleful once over before dropping it and resuming concentrating on the road. 

“If one shifts into a French Bulldog, maybe. Or an Scottish Terrier. Or a Russian Toy. Or a Welsh Corgi.” Derek smirked.

“Oh, aren’t you a funny wolf!? How about a Scottish Deer Hound, or a Great Dane, or an English Mastiff?”

“I’m bigger than those three put together,” bragged Derek.

“With the face of an English bulldog, and the temperament of a Mexican Chihuahua,” mumbled Stiles knowing perfectly well he would be heard.

Derek burst out laughing. Stiles turned to him and laughed with him.

They sobered, and Stiles decided to ask the question that had been bothering him since Peter had talked to the Ruxburg Left Hand.

“Derek, remember when your mom and I talked to the press? She said the Hale pack would respond to any attempt to force-bond me by the immediate execution of the perpetrators, followed by the annihilation of their pack.”

“Do you think her response to what happened in Nevada was too mild?” Derek asked, frowning.

“God, no. There was no attempt to force-bond me! They didn’t even get within, what? A hundred miles? They were just idiots, I guess. Except for maybe some from a pack in Ruxburg. There were three of them, and they might actually have had a plan, and even perhaps have been sent by their Alpha. Peter gave their Left Hand an ultimatum: To either get rid of their Alpha, or be eradicated from the face of the earth. These were his actual words.”

“I’m aware. I would have handled it differently myself, but I believe my mother knows their Alpha, and thinks he is a petty dictator, hence the ultimatum.”

“How would you have handled it?”

“Execute all three alphas in their hospital beds, and at the same time have our pack send a small force to Idaho to eliminate their pack. Peter gave them forty-eight hours to prepare for an attack. I thought that was a mistake. But my mother felt we did not have enough proof the attack had been planned and authorized by their Alpha to retaliate without giving their pack a chance to get out from under his thumb. I bowed down to their greater experience.”

Stiles was speechless, staring at Derek as if he had never seen him before. Derek turned to him and raised his eyebrows. “You don’t agree? Do you feel my uncle’s approach is better?”

“Derek, you just spoke of murdering people in their hospital beds and eradicating a whole pack without even taking your eyes off the road!”

“Execution is not murder, Stiles. They were warned. Overlooking the foolishness of a few students is one thing. Not following up on a threat made as the Alpha of a pack in a public forum is another. If my uncle and mother’s gentler approach weakens the position of our pack, the Beacon Township and its riches might become too shiny a prize to resist.”

He looked at Stiles. “Seventy years of peace might come to an end. Do you want Melissa or Lydia or Boyd to be murdered in their sleep by a surprise attack? That is what a weak Hale pack leads to, Stiles. Pack wars. The death of those you love. If, god forbid, the Hale pack lost, _all_ the alphas of _all_ the packs in the township would be executed. Only the betas would be allowed to live.”

“Why did your mother ever say that then? Why did she put your pack in this position? Why did you let me stay with the Humbolt pack if this could be the result?”

They had crossed into the Hale’s territory. Derek pulled the car over and turned off the engine.

“She said what she said to protect _you_ stiles! As she should have! She put the might of our pack at _your_ back. Your father, an Alpha of the township, requested her help. She did what is expected of her, of us. We protect the township and its people. It is our sworn duty, the reason we exist, and we do so at any cost,” Derek said passionately.

“I let you stay with the Humbolt pack because you wanted to, because you could do so safely and because they gave you leave to visit, leave to stay. You were within your rights, they, within theirs. The consequences are irrelevant. Our society is based on the respect of the sanctity of a pack’s territory, on the respect of alliances, on the charter between the Townships and their protectors.”

He shook his head, as if frustrated to have to explain the obvious and justify himself and his actions, past, present and future.

“The young alphas who came for you violated the integrity of the Humbolt pack’s territory. Miko would have been within his rights to kill them where they stood. The Humbolt pack’s territory borders a university township. A certain level of stupidity and foolishness is expected of young people away from the stabilizing influence of their pack. The Humbolts habitually choose to be lenient with the somewhat routine and rather benign incursions into their territory. The students get hosed down and get expelled. But it would be within their right to execute them.

“My Alpha made the decision to protect you. She made public her decision and clearly stated the consequences of any pack interfering with her charge. Three Ruxburg alphas came after you, armed. Were they students, acting out of stupidity and foolishness? I don’t think so. The Alpha’s daughter is a twenty-four year old graduate student. They shared a dorm and three pack members together form a stable group. Their attack was planned and organized. Considering she is her father’s designated heir, I doubt she would act without his consent. Thanks to our favorite Hunter, they were thwarted in their attempt. They and their pack should still, and most probably will, suffer the consequences of their act.”

Stiles understood the logic of what Derek was saying: who was in the right and who was in the wrong, yet he could not accept the brutal reality behind it, the casual way with which Derek discussed a pack’s extermination. Why had he not paid more attention to what Alpha Hale had said that night? How could it come to this?

“So that’s it? You will wipe out their pack?”

“So that our threats have weight in the future? To protect the Township? Yes. Uncompromisingly yes.” 

Stiles eyes filled with tears. He asked, because he had to hear the words. “Will you kill a baby in his crib, Derek? A toddling girl? A boy with missing front teeth like you brother?”

Derek turned to look at Stiles, appalled, his eyes flashing red for just a moment. “Do you think I am some sort of monster, Stiles? Do you think I would be capable of killing a child? Do you think Peter would be?”

“I hoped not! I hoped all this "wiping of the face of the earth", and "eradicating packs" were just figures of speech! But isn’t that what you have just been saying?”

The depth of his pain showed on Derek’s usually controlled features. “And I thought you…” 

He looked away, straight ahead. After a moment, he took a deep breath, and let it out. 

“A pack will protect its children to the last. At the first sign of trouble, they will be assembled in the most central part of the pack house, sometimes even in a room underground. This includes anyone not Sorted yet.

“The Alpha, the Left Hand, and any alphas of the pack will be the first line of defense. Alphas do not surrender. The Alpha power passes from one to the next until none are left alive. Betas will sometime fight, but as soon as the last Alpha is dead, they will surrender.”

“What happens next depends entirely on the victorious pack, and I am not privy to how every pack under the sun handles a hard won victory. I can only speak for my pack, the Hale pack, and our age old traditions.

“After they surrender, the betas will submit to the Hale Alpha. They will be accepted into the pack, unless their loyalty cannot change, in which case the Alpha’s bite will kill them.

“Young children left orphaned will be adopted by members of our pack, and raised as our own. Older orphaned children may choose to be as well, or be adopted into an allied pack.

“Never, in all of history, has a single child ever been killed by a member of the Hale pack.”

Without turning to look at Stiles, he started the car again. 

Before driving away, however, he added, “Why should you know these things? We exist so that you don’t need to. But I thought you knew _me_. How could you think, even for a moment, that I could murder a child?”

They drove in silence, until Stiles couldn't take it anymore.

“I didn’t. I couldn’t. Why do you think I asked?” Stiles cried. “How would I know you would take in the betas or adopt the children? Yes, of course, now I see how it annihilates a pack. I kept hearing you and your Alpha and Peter say these things, and I kept thinking you couldn’t mean you would _exterminate_ them but you kept saying, of course you would, “uncompromisingly” you would!”

Derek did not answer. He just kept on driving.

“It was horrifying, Derek! How could I l… How could I like someone so much who would be capable of such a thing? How could I have been so wrong about you? About your Alpha? About my Peter?”

“ _Your_ Peter?” asked Derek, finally breaking his silence. “You haven’t called him _your_ Peter since you were a little boy called Rumi.”

“I _am_ a little boy called Rumi. I remember “before”. I remember riding on Michael’s shoulder, and sitting between you and Laura the Beloved, listening to Smily. I remembered it all today, just in time to be told the wolves I thought of as my other pack exterminated people!”

“When we go to Idaho, Stiles, some of us will fall. And every one of those who fall will be a family member of mine. But we will have to keep on fighting until every one of their alphas is dead. Isn’t that bad enough?”

“They have guns, Derek! How do you know you’ll win? How do you know you’ll come back?”

“I won’t be going to Idaho. I have other duties. My place is here, by your side, protecting you.”

“Do you not want it to be anymore?” asked Stiles, scared of the answer.

They had made it to the house. Derek parked the car.

“It’s where I belong,” he answered, softly.

His duty, his Alpha’s orders, thought Stiles, feeling that he had broken something that could not be replaced.

Derek looked at him. “It’s where I want to be,” he added simply, and it was as if a huge weight had been taken off Stiles’s shoulders.

He rushed over the console and grabbed onto Derek in the most awkward hug ever.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m sorry. I should have known there was a misunderstanding. I should have trusted you. I shouldn’t have thought it for even a second. I know you better than that. I do. I trust you with my life.”

“Get off me. Your hair is in my mouth.”

“You’re a Jerk.”

“Better a Jerk than a babykiller.”

“Not funny, Derek.”

“Too soon?”

Stiles sat back down into the passenger seat. “It will always be too soon. I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Hey.”

Derek put his hand on the back of Stiles neck. Stiles looked up at him.

“Hey. I’ve already forgiven you,” Derek said.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” Stiles smiled. “Your still a jerk, though.”

Derek smiled back.

TBC


	33. Run Stiles, run!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To refresh your memory: The last chapter talked about pack politics, and interpack relationships.
> 
> This chapter: It's a full moon!  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not betaed. Totally my fault, as someone even offered, but it's been a while so I figured I'd just post it. So lame...

Run, Stiles, run…

 

When Stiles and Derek walked inside, and once again, Joshua was _right there_ to take Derek away because he needed him, Stiles didn’t like him anymore, never mind he was Derek’s dad. Just because Joshua had had the patience to teach a three year old the rules of chess, had always given Rumi back scratches when asked, and gave good hugs was no excuse. He was a meany.

Stiles climbed the stairs like an old man, and dragged himself to the Stilinski quarters. Then, he perked up, and ran to his room. He sat at the desk, opened his laptop and googled the Ruxburg pack. 

The first page of results was all federal government information, the type of information a pack had to share with the Federacy to be registered and recognized as a legal pack, to be allowed territorial rights as well as a connecting road to the federal highway, and the access to all the other federal benefits, like university education for their members, cell phone and internet coverage, access to medical care and so on.

The Ruxburgs legal territory was at the bottom right corner of Idaho. They had made disputed federal claims to territory also claimed by the Montpellier pack to the south, and the Pocatelo pack to the North West. The Montpellier were the large and widely respected protective pack to the Salt Lake Township, so yeah, Ruxburgs, good luck with that one.

The Alpha was Joseph Ruxburg, 570 moons, 266 as Alpha. The Second was Amalia Ruxburg, 517 moons, 121 as Second. The Left Hand was Philip Ruxburg, 468 moons, 76 as Left Hand. 

Their legal census declared fifty-six sorted members, a good size pack, but thirteen alphas, which was not likely to be correct. With thirteen alphas, they should have been a hundred members, at least, unless they actively sought for their betas to marry alphas and bring them to the pack to strengthen it. There were two mated alpha couples, but the Alpha was a widower.

There had been four challenges issued for the leadership of the pack in twenty years. The first was Joseph Ruxburg vs Isabella Ruxburg, when Joseph had gained the Alpha powers from his mother.

Then, in the past twelve years, there were Joseph vs Anthony, Joseph vs Eugene, and Joseph vs Lucy, all Ruxburgs, and all with Joseph as the victor. Three challenges in twelve years meant Joseph was unpopular enough that three alphas had overcome their natural loyalty to their leader to want to risk their life to replace him, so probably not a nice and fuzzy kind of Alpha.

Aside from the information mandated by the Federal government, there was nothing: no homepage, no photographs, no blogs, pack wide or personal, no Facebook, nothing. A secretive bunch, these Ruxburgs. 

Still, Stiles was a bit reassured. Thirteen Alphas was not too bad, especially if Philip was the best they had to offer aside from their Alpha. He wanted the Hales safe. He wondered who would be sent to Idaho, if it came to a head. Talia would lead. Peter would go, and Michael, probably. Samuel, maybe. Would Cora go? What about Gin, and Dean, and Clara and the rest of his friends?

Even if the Ruxburg really only had forty-three betas, it would be a huge addition to the pack, well, depending on how many would survive Talia’s bite. 

What about the children? Most, if not all, would be unable to shift to wolves until their sorting moon, wouldn’t they? How would they feel about being the odd ones out?

Stiles googled “adoption”. He found what he was looking for: adoption of the children of a dissolved pack. Dissolved. Nice euphemism.

Oh. They too got bitten by their adoptive parents’ Alpha, although a death following that bite was extremely rare, about one in ten thousand, about the same as from being bitten by an Alpha after voluntarily joining a pack, as Angelique had been by Talia, Boyd by Erica’s mom, and Mason by Alpha Whittemore.

Good. The children would be wolves, like all the Hales. More pups! Stiles smiled.

“Honey! I’m hoooome!” yelled Scott as he door, obviously in a great mood. Allison was giggling, and when Stiles walked in he realized it was because Scott had carried her in, bridal style. He deposited her gently on the couch and turned to Stiles.

“Dude. I love that car. If I wasn’t mated to this perfect woman, I’d marry that car. We took the loooong way over, and it’s awesome. Like beyond awesome. Supercalifragilistawesome! Awesome square. Allison, tell him. Allison tried it too, I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is. So Allison? Verdict?”

“Awesome. I don’t care that I’m mated. I’m marrying that car!” She laughed.

“That should hurt, right?” said Scott. “But I understand it completely. We’ll have to split custody of Peanut, but I get it!”

“Okay, you guys are never driving that car again. I am not having Clementin raised in a broken home.”

“Clementin?” asked Allison.

“Clementin Isiliva, actually.”

“Isiliva?”

“It’s Argent, in Zulu.”

Allison smiled. “Of course it is.”

“Clementin Isiliva,” repeated Scott, trying it out. “Clementin Isiliva Stilinski. I kinda like that!”

“You are going with Stilinski? asked Stiles, curious.

“Dude, my dad was an ass, and you got Argent covered. What else are we going to call her?”

“Uh, Scott. Peanut might be a boy, remember?” said Allison.

“Oh. Right. I keep forgetting. She could be a boy. Clement Isiliva Stilinski. See, it works too!” Scott enthused.

“Don’t I get a say? I’m the one getting thunder thighs, here!”

“First of all, you do not have thunder thighs, and two, thunder whatever or not, you are hot like lightning, so there,” said Scott, leaning over to kiss his mate.

Allison looked at Stiles and shrugged. “I love him.”

“I know. Me too. He is extremely lovable.”

“And I like Clementin Isiliva Stilinski. I think that could work,” Allison said.

“Really? Cool!” grinned Stiles. “You can change your mind, of course! But I’m glad you liked it. Erica nicked Blaise in the bud.”

“Blaise like Zabini? Ugh. Plus, Blaise Boyd? No. Just no. I’m with her on that one,” said Allison.

“Fine. I won’t tell you baby Whittemore’s name then,” said Stiles, pouting.

“Like Lydia doesn’t already have it embroidered on the baby towels and bed sheets already. No luck on that front, I’m afraid,” joked Allison.

“You think she knows the sex?” asked Stiles.

“I think she will name that child whatever she had chosen regardless of the sex, and immediately start a trend, so that three girls out of ten will be called Matthew or whatever next year.”

“Or boys named Lilly-Rose.”

“And don’t you know it!” said Allison. They cracked up.

“Oh, Dude. I got shit news!” said Scott suddenly. “My boss called. Isaac Lahey, the other guy who works at the animal clinic? His Alpha called in one of his half day prerogative. I have to work tomorrow afternoon.”

“Tomorrow night’s the full moon! And it’s early!” Stiles protested.

“I know, man. 5:02pm. I work till 4:30. Sucks to be me, but kitties need love, even on the full moon. I’m just sorry to cancel our plans to binge on MarioKart and Doritoes. I don’t start ‘till noon thirty though, so, maybe a morning minibinge?”

“Fine. But Doritoes are an afternoon snack, Scott. It will have to be Reese’s peanut butter cups.”

Scott grinned proudly at his wife. “Did I tell you, or did I tell you?” He grabbed the bag at the foot of the couch and up-ended it. About forty packs of peanut butter cups fell out.

“We are set, dude!” he said to Stiles, happily.

“You guys are going to get sick, and I’ll laugh,” warned Allison.

“Werewolf stomach!” said Scott, tapping his flat belly.

“Stilinski iron guts!” said Stiles, doing the same.

“And I’ll be the one gaining another two pounds. I hate you both!” cried Allison.

~o~

Stiles and Scott Bro bonded, didn’t get sick, and had a great time.

Allison had to work until noon, and Melissa’s shift was ending at 11:30, but they were going baby furniture shopping.

John was out of the suite by 7:30 in the morning, and on until 4:00pm, so by noon, Stiles was alone again.

He sighed. He almost missed homework. Plus he was on a ridiculous sugar high, and couldn’t sit still. He decided to find the nursery and hug some pups. A woman named Celine, whom Stiles didn’t know, was on duty and welcomed him with opened arms. 

A brand new baby, six weeks old, was in the nursery while his mother did her training, and he had colic. When he was a human baby, his face was bright red, his eyes scrunched up, and his mouth wide open on a never-ending wail. If he shifted, he whined piteously and bit any helping hand, and those pup teeth were very sharp.

Celine had had to give him all of her attention, and the other pups were getting upset. She plopped the screaming child in Stiles’s arms and took the other out for “recess”, not exactly what stiles had had in mind, but oh, well.

The baby was clean and fed, so stiles figured it would be all right to take him outside too. He fitted him in a chest carrier, a little net over the top, in case he shifted and tried to get out, and headed for the woods.

He took the path to the Nemeton, singing some country song he’d heard in a movie about walking after midnight, in the moonlight, feeling it was an appropriate lullaby for a baby werewolf. Whether it was his sweet peanut butter and chocolate breath, the rhythmic walk, or the soothing shade of the woods, a minute in and the baby was asleep. Stiles would have patted himself on the shoulder, if not for the risk of waking the child.

After a while, the majestic tree came into view. Stiles smiled. It was like seeing an old friend. Rumi used to come and crawl all over the soft moss covered ground as a little boy, tracing the carved initials with his chubby finger, hugging some bumps in the wood while he rested his cheek on the huge trunk, and even falling asleep between the roots. A nap sounded pretty good actually, right about now.

He sat down gingerly on the thick moss, careful not to jostle the sleeping babe, and made himself comfortable, leaning against the trunk, roots on both sides like armrests in a wide chair. He closed his eyes and, listening to the birds and the crickets, he dozed off.

_He followed the S and the D he had carved eleven moons before into the smooth bark with his finger, and smiled at his mate, a huge wolf, white as snow, with grey eyes, who nuzzled his neck with his cold nose._

_The day he had started his journey in this world, just after he had opened his eyes, his mother had buried his afterbirth, along with an acorn, in the clearing where he was born. The tree had grown beautiful and straight, its roots digging deep into the places where the magic of the earth ran, its center where six ley lines crossed._

_As the moon rose, wolves, long legged and strong, came running on silent paws, the Hale leading his pack. Stiles nodded to his mate’s father in greeting, and the wolf nodded back before tilting his head up to Mother Moon, and singing to her. His pack followed suit, in a haunting chorus, then all took off into the night. Stiles smiled at Derek and ran off, following a ley line, pulling magic from the earth with each step to keep up with his mate and their pack, laughing under the light of the moon._

Suddenly, a terribly mournful howl wrenched him from sleep. It was sorrowful and desolate and went on, and on, anguished and hopeless.

With no recollection of his dream, Stiles still felt as if moments ago he had been filled with joy and now, Wolf-Derek’s cry was breaking his heart. 

He’d heard this howl before, in Nevada. He got up as best he could, a bit clumsy with his burden. The baby slept on, as beautiful as an angel. The birds still sang. No other voices answered Derek’s howl, as they should have, here, in the midst of the Hale territory. It was as if, once again, only Stiles had heard its tormented cry.

Trying to calm his heart, which just told him to _find Derek now!_ , he listened to his head and although he lost no time, made his way back toward the house without waking the baby. Celine was still on the front lawn with the pups.

“You are magical!” she said, looking at the sleeping child. “Look at him. So peaceful.”

Trying to sound calm, Stiles asked, “Celia, did you hear a howl?”

“Just now?”

“Yeah. A few minutes ago.”

“No. I didn’t.” She grinned and said, “If you want to hear a howl, stick around an hour or so!”

“Hey, you think we can transfer this baby to you without waking him?”

“We can try!”

Amazingly, they succeeded, and trying to not make it look weird, Stiles jogged to the house and up the stairs, going in search of Derek. He quite literally ran into him in the entrance hall. Derek caught him by the arm before Stiles fell over, and started talking to him urgently, directing him back out the door.

“Vernon Boyd just called. Your father is in the hospital. There was an accident. He pulled someone over on the southern road, right before the railway bridge, and a truck hit the parked cruiser, pushing it into traffic. There was a pile up and your father was crushed between two cars. He’ll be fine, but they have to operate to line things up properly. The rest of your pack is on their way there. I’ll take you. He’s going to need all of you around him make the post surgery healing faster.”

“But Vern said he’ll be all right?” confirmed Stiles as they ran towards the car.

“Yes. He’s an Alpha, Stiles, he just needs his pack and he’ll be fine, you _know_ that,” Derek reminded him.

“I do! I do, but it’s my dad, Derek, and…”

Derek started the Camaro and put his hand on Stiles’s shoulder, squeezing a little to get him to pay attention.

“The full moon will help him, of course. He is going to be just fine. But he needs you, your strength, your love, your loyalty. He needs to feel his pack’s support, how much you all need him. Just concentrate on that. I’ll get us there.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let me call Scott, I want to… Shit! My phone is in the nursery. I took it out to put it on vibrate, in case I got that baby to sleep, and I left it there!”

“Well, that explains why Vern Boyd called my phone. He said the pile-up won’t be cleared until after the full moon. They are redirecting traffic towards downtown and with everyone rushing home for the moon, it would take us forty minutes to get through there. He said we should take the gravel road along the preserve. We’ll get to the back of the hospital in fifteen minutes, and Scott will be waiting to open the door for us.”

“It makes sense. Thank god you howled. I was asleep at the Nemeton. It would have taken forever for you to track me!”

Derek took his eyes off the road for a second, frowning. “Stiles, I didn’t howl. I’d just hung up seconds before I ran into you.”

“But I heard you howl! It woke me up!” Stiles insisted.

“You must have been dreaming. I didn’t howl, and I don’t think you could tell my howl from others in my pack anyway, not any more than when you thought you heard me howl at the Humbolts’.”

They left the smooth blacktop of the highway for the rough ride over the gravel road, Derek driving twice the speed limit, followed by a cloud of dust. Stiles cringed, hearing rocks hitting the car, knowing the smooth black finish of the Camaro was taking a beating. Derek just concentrated on driving, not slowing down, caring more about getting Stiles to his dad than about his car’s paint job.

Derek hadn’t howled, but Stiles knew what he’d heard. He _knew_ he hadn’t imagined it. He had heard it, both times!

Suddenly, the back of the car started to slip-slide, and only Derek’s reflexes saved them from driving right off the road.

“We have a flat. The left rear tire,” said Derek tonelessly, already opening his door. “Stay here. I’ll have us back on the way as quick as I can.” He popped open the trunk.

Stiles took out his belt. “Don’t be stupid, I’ll help.”

“Stiles, the full moon is in less than fifteen minutes. _Stay in the car._ ” growled Derek.

Stiles ignored him and got out. “You grab the spare and the wrench, then hold the car up as I switch tires. We’ll be out of here in five minutes.”

“Stiles, _get back_ in the car!” said Derek through clenched teeth.

“Oh for fuck sakes! Here, we’ve got some mountain ash left. I’ll circle the stupid car while you get stuff out if it’ll make you feel better. Now, stop arguing and get the spare out!”

Stiles grabbed the bag, took out the rubber band that was holding the cut corner closed and jogged around the car, mumbling the whole time about ridiculous, overprotective wolves. By the time he finished, Derek at taken out the lug nuts and was already lifting the car off the ground. Stiles took the wheel off, and put the spare in its place, securing it with two of the lug nuts. Derek put the car back down and Stiles started rolling the wheel with the punctured tire toward the trunk as Derek placed and tightened all the nuts. 

Stiles closed the trunk and was walking back to the passenger seat when he noticed. “Derek, the rear right tire is flat too. Shit, so is the front one.”

“Humpf!” Derek grabbed his shoulder and the rear left window cracked as a gunshot rang out from somewhere in the preserve. He feinted to the right, and the front window exploded as another shot rang.

“It’s an ambush. Get in the back and lie on the floor!” Derek ordered.

“You get in the car! They’re not shooting at me!” cried Stiles.

Derek ducked again as the sound of a bullet rebounding mixed with the sound of the shot.

“You have good reflexes, Hale,” said a man, coming out of the woods. Then, in a walkie-talkie, “Come join us. He’s too fast, you’re not gonna hit him, and you might hit my omega instead.”

The man was not alone. Eight others appeared out of the woods behind him, including Philip Ruxburg.

“It’s the Ruxburg pack, Derek,” said Stiles. “That’s Philip, their Left Hand, and probably Joseph, the Alpha. It was a set up. I bet my dad’s fine.”

“Smart as a whip, aren’t you?” said Joseph. “But I think Hale here’s already figured that out. Now, Hale, I know you’re strong, but there are ten of us here,” he said, waving vaguely towards the other, including a woman who was walking out of the wood carrying a long range riffle, “and only one of you. So let me take my little omega bitch off your hands, and we’ll be on our way.”

“Sorry, but I don’t think I will,” answered Derek. Stiles saw that he had slipped his phone out of his back pocket and was dialing a pre-programmed number.

Philip chortled and lifted the small black suitcase with four antennas sticking out of it that he was holding. “Sorry Hale. That’s not gonna work. Signal jammer. Phone _and_ GPS. You’re all alone out here. Hand over the omega, and no one gets hurt.”

“Over my dead body,” answered Derek.

“That can be arranged,” said Joseph, signaling for his companions to attack. They rushed forward, eyes red and claws out, only to be bounced back by the mountain ash line.

“Mountain ash! That’s what that little shit was doing, running around the car!” Philip exclaimed.

“Now Phil,” Joseph reproached. “Is that any way to talk about your future packmate?”

“Since he did nothing when Peter Hale called you incompetent, inept and stupid, I don’t think insults to his Alpha or his packmates bother him too much,” Stiles put in.

Philip glanced worriedly toward his Alpha, but brazened it out. “That pathetic jumped up beta was lucky I was only there to play the whipped dog, or I would have been holding his still beating heart in my hands!”

“Is that why you reeked of fear? Did you have to put on clean shorts after you left, you fucking coward?” asked Stiles, figuring a little dissension within the Ruxburgs could only help his case.

Considering the way Joseph glared at Philip, Stiles thought it was working well enough, but the Alpha did not lose his focus.

“Well, omega, I guess we’ll just have to convince you to come willingly. Now, Amelia, dear, do you think you can hit your target now that he is ever so much closer? Perhaps some wolfbane to the gut?”

The woman put down her riffle and got what Stiles’s recognized as a Smith and Wesson .44 magnum out of a holster, a rather nasty smile on her face. 

All at once, the werewolves shifted, as the moon reached its fullness. Derek roared, in full beta shift. Stiles had never seen him like that before. He found his beta shift much more intimidating than his full wolf shift. 

Amelia, now looking like a repulsive pug, took aim and fired. Derek moved so fast Stiles could only see a blur. She fired again and again, all six shots, but Derek avoided each and every one.

“Well,” said Joseph. “How frustrating for you, Amelia. Perhaps you need a hand?”

Two of his alphas pulled out what looked, to Stiles, like Glocks semiautomatics handguns. Well shit. That was seventeen rounds each, firing faster than even Derek might be able to duck.

“Stop!” said Stiles. “Don’t shoot. I’ll come willingly, but I want some guaranties.”

“Shut up, Stiles!” said Derek.

Stiles shrugged. “My life is not worth more than yours, Derek. I’m not letting them kill you.”

“Don’t you dare do anything stupid. My pack is looking for us as we speak!” 

Joseph smiled. “Yes, they are. But the sheriff and his family did not meet you on the way to Hale House, did they? And they would have if you’d gone north, because why in the world would you take a gravel road with your fancy car? They’ll be looking south, I’m afraid. So, omega, what assurances will it take to make you cross that line?”

Stiles took a deep breath, trying to calm his heart. He looked up at the moon, huge in the twilit sky, feeling its radiance on his skin, in his blood. He looked back at Joseph, knowing his eyes shone bright gold, that he reeked of omega pheromones.

“I see a lot of unmated alphas in your pack. Am I to be your mate or one of theirs?” he asked. “I am not coming out to be some second rate alpha’s dreamgirl. I shudder to think what that coward over there’s true mate might be like,” he said, gesturing to Philip, trying to plant the thought in the other Ruxburg’s alphas that they, and not their Alpha, might get the omega.

Stiles crouched, and started to remove his Converse and socks.

“Then again, what’s your SASSH? 19? Considering an alpha mated with me can gain as many as four points, whichever alpha I end up with might easily challenge you, couldn’t they?” He looked at a young woman, whom he assumed was Joseph’s daughter and designated heir, and smiled at her. “After all, Joseph, didn’t you kill your own mother to replace her?”

The alphas started eyeing each other surreptitiously. 

Joseph roared powerfully, and his alphas attentions were called back to him. “Don’t worry, you will be mine, omega. No one else. I am the Alpha of this pack.”

He was using as much Alpha mojo as Stiles had ever heard on the last two sentences. Maybe he was not as secure in his position as all that.

Stiles moved to the edge of the ash circle, where he had walked off the road and onto the grassy bank when he was pouring the ash. He took off his shirt, exposing more of his skin to the evening air. His pheromones were free of the heat rising off the gravel that had carried them upward, and were no longer masked by the scent of the warm engine. They were flooding the air around the Ruxburgs.

Derek seemed to have caught on with what Stiles was doing, and was letting him seed distension in the Ruxburg ranks, while giving the Hale and Stilinski packs extra time to find them, to boot.

“Come out now,” Joseph, who’d also caught on, growled to Stiles, “Or I will have them shoot Hale.”

Stiles looked up at the brilliant moon again, opening himself to its radiance, feeling its power overwhelm him, running through his veins with each beat of his heart, the moonlight bathing his bare skin, nourishing, strengthening. His eyes on the silver orb, he dug his toes in the roadside dirt, searching, searching, although he was not sure what for. When he looked down again, he could see a gleaming line hundreds of yards away, cutting through the preserve, and his body was trembling with the need to run. 

“Or they could shoot you, and get rid of their biggest competition,” Stiles answered. He saw the aim of the handguns waver a little.

“Mickey, one warning burst to the gut!” ordered Joseph.

The shots rang out, and Derek moved, but then folded over, as some of the bullets found their mark. Stiles exploded out of the ash circle and ran, as he had run when Derek had chased him before. He pushed out of his mind the fact that wolfsbane was now running into Derek’s system as he flew over fallen trees and zigzagged through the trunks on his way to the gleaming line, not sure what it was, or why it was so important for him to reach it.

He could hear scrambling and then running behind him, as the werewolves started the chase, heard shots being fired, too close to be aimed at Derek any more, alphas getting rid of the competition for a chance to mate him.

A terribly mournful howl threatened to slow his pace. It was sorrowful and desolate and went on, and on, anguished and hopeless. Derek, prisoner of the ash, unable to protect him, to save him. It was real this time, breaking Stiles heart. 

He blocked it out of his mind, as he did the sounds of his pursuers, concentrating on putting every once of his strength into forward motion, focusing on that faraway glowing line, on the energy coursing through his body. The run was exhilarating, as he flew effortlessly over obstacles, through branches, the moon lighting the way.

He was almost within reach of his goal when the pounding of feet behind him got too loud to ignore and told him he would not make it. As Michael had taught him, he left his left arm trail behind, and a hand closed on it like a vise. As he had rehearsed, he used the werewolf’s hold as an anchor as he pivoted on the ball of his left foot, and kicked up with his right, as hard as he could, never doubting for an instant that it would find its target. 

In the next moment, he was free, as Joseph curled on the ground in the fetal position. Too close for comfort, he saw four more alphas coming at him, and he took off again. He leaped over a stream, and landed, full of grace, on the glowing line he had sought to reach, following it as he continued running.

With each step, the power of the earth, of the primeval forest, surged through his bones, muscles and sinew. The light of the moon on his bare skin fed his flight. Soon there were no other noises in the night than his breath and his own footsteps. He’d left the alphas behind.

Stiles knew without a doubt when he finally crossed into the Hale’s territory. He did not slow down, driven to his pack, to his Alpha, seeking help for Derek, needing to warn Peter of the incoming threat. He bypassed the Nemeton, the moss springy under his feet. There was no longer a glowing line to guide him, but he knew the way.

In a moment, he was coming out of the woods and onto the lawn and he flew right into his father’s arms. They tumbled down to the ground, Stiles already speaking, “Derek is hurt, shot with wolfsbane, he is caught in a circle of mountain ash, on the gravel road east of the preserve! The Ruxburgs are behind me, the Alpha, and nine other alphas!”

“Slow down, Stiles, slow down, you crazy, reckless kid! It’s all right, Talia and Peter have got it, it’s okay!” said John, getting back to his feet and giving his son a hand up.

“But Derek is hurt, dad…”

Before he could finish, and as he barely had gotten his feet under him, he was bowled back down onto the grass by an enormous black wolf who basically lay on top of him shoving his cold nose in his neck. Then there was human-Derek, hugging the hell out of him, repeating, “You’re all right, you’re all right!”

“Get off me! I can’t breathe!” cried Stiles.

Derek got up, and pulled Stiles to his feet. Surprisingly, he was not nude, but wearing a bullet-proof vest with a flap in the front covering… whatever. It had a line of four small divots from the center of Derek’s chest to his left side, right over his heart.

Stiles ran his fingers over the holes, and, his words coming quietly through the tightening of his throat, said, “You wore the vest.”

Derek smiled at him and shrugged. “I wore the vest.”

It was Stiles turn to hug the hell out of him, crying, “You’re all right! You’re all right!”

Derek hugged him back. “We both are.”

 

TBC


	34. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the last chapter, Stiles escaped kidnapping by the Ruxburg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. Still no beta after rewrite. Eeek.  
> I just want to get to the fun part, you know?

Aftermath

Lying in his bed that night, Stiles, finally alone, thought back what had happened that day, trying to process every bit of it. In many ways, he felt like a child who finally realized there was a whole world out there he had to learn to navigate before he should be allowed out from under his Alpha’s wing. He thought about the young university students who had crossed into the Humbolt’s territory, and felt a lot of kinship to them.

Unknown to him, the day before, when Philip had left the Hale territory, Gin had been tracking him. It turned out that his unassuming friend Gin rated 5 for Speed and 5 for Senses, was amazingly light on his feet and that his coloring blended well with the land.

Philip had not gone to Lake Tahoe to pick up the three wayward students. Joseph had, and they had all met with other alphas from the Ruxburg pack in a small hangar on the side of the highway, in federal land, where road maintenance supplies were kept.

They had planned on taking Stiles for weeks, and when he had stayed at the Humbolts, had only seize what looked like a decent opportunity, knowing the chances of success were limited, but figuring it was worth the risk. Now they were back to the original plan, which sadly, had been detailed and rehearsed many time before, so that they did not speak of it in more details than, “We’re back to plan A” and Gin had not learned much about it.

Already knowing his ultimatum was being ignored, Peter, along with Laura, Michael and Samuel had taken the pack’s helicopter to the Pocatello’s territory, a pack with which the Hales had a non-aggression agreement. While Peter drafted a more solid pact with their Left Hand, offering the Hales support in their claim in the territorial dispute the Pocatellos had with the Ruxburgs and perhaps more, Laura, Michael and Samuel, _alone_ had made their way, first by car then on four paws, to Ruxburg house, near the hot lava springs in Idaho.

The three alphas Joseph had left behind, one older man and two freshly Sorted boys, had not seen or heard them coming, even though they had been watching the house from observation towers, armed with long range riffles. All three had died without knowing what hit them, leaving only the betas and the pack’s children behind, clueless that their protection had so easily fallen.

Then, the Hale siblings had waited for their Alpha’s word.

~o~

Back in Beacon Hills, as soon as Joseph and his alphas had made a move, Gin had warned Talia. Thinking both Derek and Stiles safe at the house, they had not realized the Ruxburg pack was not just setting their ambush, but were proceeding with their attack.

It had only taken a few minutes, once the Hale pack was put on alert, for Celine to find her Alpha and tell her that Derek and Stiles had left the house about twenty minutes before, in a big hurry. When Alpha Stilinski and his pack arrived, not having met them on the way, it confused the issue a bit more, Gin being certain the Ruxburgs had been heading towards the Township.

The Hale pack was large and well trained. Dividing in small groups, they had rapidly investigated all possible roads and tracks leading from Hale house outward. John, Scott and Allison had joined the effort, and it was, serendipitously, Allison and two Hale alphas who had heard Derek’s howl of impotent rage and grief and found him locked in a circle of ash.

She had freed him, and he had taken off with his two packmates in pursuit of the Ruxburgs while Allison radioed the rest of the pack.

They’d almost immediately run across three bodies: the two armed Ruxburg alphas had killed Amelia, then each other, driven to eliminate the competition for the fleeing omega whose hormones drove logic and loyalty out of their minds. It still left seven of them in pursuit. Two had fallen to Derek’s claws before the three Hales had found Joseph, struggling back to his feet. He could not stand long without his heart, once it’d ended up in one of the Hale alpha’s fist.

The next three had soon been caught and disposed off, leaving only Philip in pursuit of Stiles, Philip, who, being next in line after Amelia, had inherited the Alpha powers from Joseph. Derek had caught him at the limit between the preserve and the Hale territory, amazed to find that Stiles had managed to evade all of his pursuers.

The ensuing battle had been short but fierce. Derek’s thick fur always offered some protection, but he had to admit the body armor was even better. Derek had learned to fight from Peter. He was not picky about how he obtained results. Philip had died blinded by a claw swipe, and his guts spread all over the forest floor. The tearing of his throat had come after, as insurance.

Then Derek had chased after Stiles, out of his mind with worry, amazed and happy beyond comprehension when he’d found the foolish omega safe and whole.

~o~

After a chance to clean up and calm down with his pack, John, Melissa and Stiles had met Alpha Hale and her second in her office for debriefing.

Derek had already been there, dressed but still running on adrenaline, and pacing as he impatiently waited for his mother to explain what had happened. When she had shared with them how the circumstances had developed, Derek had been so furious, so upset, learning that she had thought it all right to wait until he was finished working with his father before letting him know of the changes in the situation, he had, in his beta shift, his eyes bright red, roared challengingly at his own Alpha.

Stiles had been terrified of what might follow, but Talia’s handling of Derek's behavior had once again reminded Stiles that he had a lot to learn.

Instead of reaffirming her dominance through a show of force, she had stayed calm and kept her human features as she conceded in low voice that she had been in error, and had asked the challenging alpha if he could find it in himself to overlook her mistake and continue trusting her with the leadership of the pack.

Derek had immediately calmed down, and approached his mother, head bowed, whining like a much younger wolf. She had bit his neck, drawing blood, and taken him in her arms, accepting his submission anew, saying, “I am grateful for your forgiveness, alpha Derek Hale. You honor me by trusting me to continue to lead our pack. Thank you.” 

She had placed her hands on her son’s cheeks and he had met her eyes. “Sadly, I am not perfect, son. Peter told me to warn you before he left. I mistakenly left it for far too long. Because of that, I would have lost you, hadn’t it been for Stiles convincing you to wear that body armor. I would never have forgiven myself for that. Believe me, you are not as angry with me than I am at myself." She had added, her voice breaking, "You and your siblings are my heart. I love you more than life itself.”

Derek had hugged his mom, next, a very different hug than that of the Alpha to her packmember. This one had been one filled with emotions. Derek had rubbed his mother’s back and said, “Shh, It’s okay. I’m all right, Mom. I’m just fine.”

Tears on her face, she’d held him tighter. “Thank heavens! I was so scared for you. I love you, Derek, so much.”

“I love you too, mom.”

Joshua had wrapped the both of them in his arms, kissing both his son and his mate on the top of the head.

It was a private moment, but John and Melissa had just taken advantage of it to hug the hell out of Stiles, so it had turned out okay. Once they had all more or less settled down, Talia had turned to Stiles.

“You do know it’s impossible for a human to outrun a werewolf, Stiles. Never mind several _alpha_ werewolves driven feral by your scent. So I have two questions for you. Why in the world did you think it was a good idea to leave the protection of the mountain ash circle you had been so smart to put up, and how did you make it to Hale House without being caught?”

“They were shooting at Derek!” had cried Stiles, “He had been dodging bullets, I mean, literally dodging some .44! That was scary enough, but when they started with the semiautomatics, I knew I had to do something! Why should his life be any less valuable than mine? Did you expect me to do nothing? As it is, I didn’t leave the circle soon enough. That idiot was told a warning shot to the gut! That would have been bad enough with wolfsbane bullets, but he couldn't aim. He got Derek in the heart! They would have just kept on shooting him until I came out!”

He'd calmed down a little,frowned and had gone on.

“As for outrunning those alphas, well… I can’t explain it. Twice before, during the full moon, I managed to stay ahead of Derek as he chased me, much longer than I should have been able to, so I was hoping.”

Talia had raised an eyebrow, and had asked turning to her son, “Derek _chased_ you? On a _full_ moon?”

Derek had dismissed whatever she had been really asking and had explained quickly, “Stiles ran off, both times, challenging me to catch him. I didn’t hold back, and still I had a hard time doing catching him. The moon… Both time, he seemed to glow with its light, and he took off so fast, so light on his feet, I thought I was chasing some… weregazelle!"

Derek shrugged. "But he said he tested human after his Sorting. I spoke to Peter about it. He said he’d think on it, with that look on his face. You know the look I mean, mom, like he knows something you don’t, but we both know he’s bluffing half the time.”

“And half the time he is not,” Talia had remarked. “So, Stiles, you actually thought you could outrun them? Joseph was an Alpha.”

“Oh, I didn’t outrun him. He caught me. But Michael had prepared me for that. I tried one of his tricks, and nailed Joseph in the nuts, really hard. Michael said to kick’em while they’re down, but A: I was barefoot, and could have broken my toes just as easily as his nasal bone, and two: there were four more alphas coming, so I skedaddled."

He'd hesitated a bit before sharing the rest, because it made no sense. "I know it’s weird, but… Well, there was this bright line on the floor of the woods, and I was running for it, knowing that if I reached it, they’d never catch me. And it was true! As soon as the soles of my feet touched that line, I can’t explain it, but I’m pretty sure no one could have caught me. Not even Derek.”

“A bright line on the forest floor?” asked John. What are you talking about son? And why were you barefoot?”

“I’m not sure, Dad! _I know it’s weird_! But I knew I had to take my shoes and socks off before I left the circle, and after I looked at the moon, I felt filled to the brim with the need to run, and this line appeared, a mile away or so, and I knew that if I reached it, and ran on it, I’d be fine.”

“Son, that makes no sense at all!” had said John, shaking his head, frowning worryingly.

“Don’t you think I know this, Dad?” Stiles had cried, throwing his arms up. “And what about Derek’s howl? He howled when I left the circle, because he thought he had failed me, because he could not follow.” 

His eyes had met Derek’s for a moment, apologetic, before going back to his father’s. “But I had heard that _exact same howl_ twice before, once in Nevada, and once this afternoon, when no one else did, when he hadn’t even howled yet. How does _that_ make sense?”

“It does not,” had said Talia, puzzled. “But the fact is, you did outrun ten alphas, including the Alpha of a pack. I know you tested Human again after your Sorting, but I think it would not hurt if you had your SASSH retested, just to be sure. And I do hope Peter is not bluffing, this time. I would like to know what’s going on with you. Perhaps Mr. Deaton can shed some light on the matter.”

“Well, honestly, unless you can talk them into testing me at the full moon, I don’t think my SASSH will show anything. Right now? With the moon setting? I’m pretty sure Allison might catch me. She’s badass, you know. But I ran barefoot, and I don’t have a scratch, and I jumped and made my way through trees, at top speed, without ever tripping, and I’m pretty sure I hit Joseph so hard his balls ended up in his throat. There must be something in the full moon that affects omegas. One more thing to research, I guess.”

“Well,” had said Talia. “The whole pack will be meeting in the cafeteria, once everyone gets back from their run, as we always do, even though tonight they ran with a different purpose, and quite a few actually drove. If I know my pack, no one will go to sleep until Peter and the others arrive back from Idaho. You are welcome to join them for food, and talk and games, while they wait, of course. I apologize, but there are a few people I need to speak to before Peter arrives. We will talk again soon, I’m sure. Derek, I need you to stay with me, as acting Left Hand, if that’s all right.”

Derek had nodded to his Alpha, but until the door closed, his eyes had not left Stiles’s as the Stilinskis filed out of Talia’s office.

~o~

Up in Idaho, the Ruxburg betas felt the death of their final Alpha, the sudden emptiness where reassuring guidance and protection should be, the loss of their anchor and cohesion as a pack. When Laura, having received the go ahead from Talia, banged on the door, they filed out, unresisting, only begging for the life of their young.

Assured they would not be slaughtered, they, as asked, packed theirs and the children’s bags, prepared and ate a meal, and waited, trying to keep the children entertained and content until they found out their fate.

Peter arrived within an hour with Alpha Sally Pocatello, a soft-spoken older woman with gentle eyes but a lean, muscular built. She offered the betas and their children a place in her pack, which territory would now include the old Ruxburg territory, and therefore be large enough to support her new pack, soon to be almost twice as numerous as before.

One after the other, she gave the betas and their children her bite, and welcomed them. It was a testimony to how little love and in how little respect the betas had held their previous Alpha that all survived the bite, grateful for the change in leadership. 

Four orphans, the children of alpha parents, were left. A girl of fifteen, a five year old boy, and seven month old twins. Peter collected the family and medical history of the children from the pack’s record and the beta who had been the pack’s nurse practitioner. The older girl, Celia, who turned out to be Joseph’s second child, had despised her father and her older sister ever since Joseph had killed her mother Lucy, when she had disagreed with his actions and challenged him for leadership.

She was offered a place in the Pocatello pack, but wanting a clean break, asked if she could join the Hales instead. Even warned by Peter, in vivid details, that to join the Hales meant to dedicate her life to harsh training and self-sacrifice in preparation for the defense of the Beacon Township, she maintained her choice, saying it would feel great to devote herself to a worthy goal, to something good, as unlike as possible to her father’s survivalist, autarchic vision.

Peter, Laura, Michael, Samuel, Celia and the three younger orphans flew back to Beacon Hills, Celia cuddling her five year old packmate reassuringly, while the twins slept in their car seats, oblivious of the upending of their world.

~o~

Talia had had a lengthy meeting with her Second, Derek and several other packmembers whose role in the pack Stiles was unaware of. She was there to welcome the new arrivals, when they made it back to Hale House. Soon after, the whole pack, now complete, had dispersed as everyone went to bed, but Stiles had noted that some had been held back by Talia, whose evening evidently was not over.

Stiles had been exhausted. Back in the Stilinski’s quarters, he had begged of off further conversation. He’d needed to think, he’d needed to rest. So much had gone on. There was so much more going on behind the scenes that he was aware of. 

Finally, he was too tired to think anymore. Too tired to wonder about his quasi magical run, and especially too tired to think about having almost lost Derek. He let go, closed his eyes, and slept without dreams.

~o~

In the morning, the whole pack had breakfast together, and it was in front of everyone that the twins were adopted by a bonded beta couple who already had a one-year old daughter, Eva, one of the pups Stiles had carried in his arms on the Flower moon.

Jasmine, her mom, had been in the process of weaning her, but still had enough milk to start nursing the twin pups, and her body would soon adjust to the demand and produce enough milk to nurse them without needing the extra breast milk the newest baby’s mom (the colicky pup Stiles had taken care of that very afternoon) would be pumping to help. 

Apparently, outside pups were never adopted by couples who did not yet have children, as it might forever screw up their heat cycle, and prevent them from ever having their own pups. 

Jasmine was thrilled. She had hoped to have pups close together, so the twins were a perfect addition to her and her mate Alan’s family. Jasmine and Alan got to rename the babies, and chose Patrick and Stephan as their new names. After they were bit, ever so gently, by Talia, the infants’ medical records were copied and altered, showing their new names, and their original medical and family histories from the Ruxburg pack were sealed, for the boys to view if they wanted to once they were Sorted.

The process was not so simple with the five year old boy, Alexander. He had been birthed by Amelia, the Ruxburg second, although she was not married and it was extremely rare for an unattached female to have a productive heat. 

His birth certificate did not name a father. According to the nurse practitionerof the Ruxburg pack, the rumor was that the father had been from another pack, but that Joseph had refused to accept him as he was a powerful alpha and might have threatened his authority.

Amelia had not spent much time with the child. Apparently, the Ruxburg children, from weaning to the end of primary school, were raised by the pack at large and slept all together, in a big puppy pile. It was not an uncommon practice in isolated packs. The boy had not even asked after his mother at all, happy with Celia’s attention.

The night before, Talia had called upon two alpha couple, Yael and Todd who had two young children, Lily, four, and Arthur, seven, and her own second cousin and his mate, Lars and Cleo, who has Max, also seven. After explaining the situation, she had asked if either couple would be willing to foster the boy, since he was used to being with other pups, and possibly, adopt him at a later date, if he was a good fit for their family. She had send them home to think about it overnight. 

It would have been in her power to change the child’s memories, so any couple in the pack could have adopted him, but she was reluctant to do so. She had decided to fade them instead, and give him a chance to adjust to his new pack in a more natural way. He had stayed the night with her family, which she had presented to him and her own twins as an exciting sleep over, with Pizza, popcorn, movies, and Nora and Pip’s company as well. 

Cora had been in charge of keeping an eye on them all, so they did not burn the house down. Nora and Pip had both rolled their eyes disgustedly at the notion that they were not old enough to babysit themselves, but had not protested, especially when they had heard that because of the late hour, making Alexander feel as welcome as possible would earn them the next afternoon off from combat training. Alexander had taken an immediate shine to Nora, and happily gone with the children to the Alpha’s home.

That morning, Alexander received a bite so quick, while giving Talia a good bye hug, he did not even react as the tiny drop of blood on his neck was covered with a band aid, and Talia handed him to Yael and Todd, his new foster parents. With two children already, they weren’t sure to have more, and they were very hopeful that Alexander would be happy with them, so they could fully adopt him.

Celia was adopted by Sierra Hale, a pediatrician at the Beacon Hospital, and her mate, Bjorn, who was part of the full time Township protection team. They had two grown boys, a twenty-four year old who worked for Martin manufacturing, and a twenty-one year old who was at the Tulane Township University. 

They had volunteered immediately when Talia had spoken to them, not liking their empty nest, and admitting they had often wished for a daughter. Bjorn was a bear of a man, with longish blond hair and a blond beard, and light blue eyes. His resting expression was a small smile, which stretched to a full grin at the least opportunity. He had a great laugh, and a gentle touch that belied his size and chosen profession. Sierra was smart, energetic and charming.

Celia only asked Talia if they were good people before accepting their offer. Sierra gave her a long hug, and then Celia found herself hugged to pieces by Bjorn, soon joining him in irrepressible laughter. 

“Bjorn, let go of the child!” said Talia, chortling. “I still have to accept her into the pack.”

Celia came to her, a bit apprehensive, until Bjorn and Sierra each took hold of one of her hands. Head bowed, she received a small nip to the neck, which healed in seconds. “Our children insure our pack’s survival,” Alpha Hale said. “May you bring pride and honor to your parents and to our pack.”

Not realizing Talia’s words were part of the ritual of her acceptance, Celia looked up and shyly answered, “I’ll do my best,” bringing a smile to Talia’s lips. 

“Now, Celia, you healed very quickly. What is your expended SASSH?” asked Talia.

“Strength: 3, Agility: 3, Speed: 3, Sensory perception: 2, Healing: 5 for a total of 16.”

“A 5 in Healing,” said Talia. “That will explain it! How about your shift? Don’t show me, just tell me.”

“Uh… I get fangs, and claws, and my ears get a little pointy?” She blushed. “And I get this stupid little stumpy tail.”

“Hmm,” said Talia. She took the robe Peter was handing her, and gave it to Celia. “Why don’t you go and change in the bathroom outside on the left, then come back and show me, all right?”

“My stumpy tail is not that big. I can show you now, it will be fine with my skirt.”

“Celia,” said Sierra, gently. “Do as the Alpha says. It’s part of the ritual, you see?”

“Oh! Okay. Sorry, Alpha Hale. I meant no offense,” she added worriedly.

“None taken. Now go quickly, and come back.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

As soon as Celia left, Peter said, “You are really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Talia shrugged and admitted, giggling, “I can’t wait to see her reaction. Without Ruxburg keeping his pack in such isolation, she would know what’s coming. We never get to surprise anybody with this. Don’t tell me you’re not looking forward to it.”

“I think we all are,” said Bjorn. “I was warned, obviously, and it still knocked my socks off. It’s the most freeing feeling in the world!” 

Actually, the whole pack was on pins and needles, all waiting to see the girl’s reaction to her first full wolf shift.

Celia came back, holding the robe, which was missing its belt, tightly around her, intimidated to be on such public display.

“Thank you for being so quick,” said Talia. “Now, go ahead and shift.”

In seconds, a cute, almost fully grown tawny wolf with a white muzzle, chest and paws was wrestling with the robe before Peter sliced it open along her back with a quick claw. She looked at her paws, chased her tail in a circle for a minute, then rolled on the floor and stretched. She bounced back on her paws, literally dancing in place, a huge wolfie grin stretching her mouth, letting out excited little “Yip,Yip” sounds. 

The whole pack was sharing her joy and excitement. She jumped up on Talia and licked her face, before remembering herself, and backing away submissively, but then dancing around again, unable to control herself. She took on the usual “Wanna play?” pose, in front of her new parents, who were smiling hard.

“How about you go for a run with your mother and father?” asked Talia.

Without hesitation or self-consciousness, Sierra and Bjorn striped and shifted. Celia bounced again joyously, her tail wagging like crazy. The three wolves left together at a trot, bumping shoulders playfully.

“Well, that was eminently satisfying,” declared Talia, as the whole pack laughed and cheered. “Sadly,” she added, “some of us have to get to work. Good day everyone!”


	35. Throw back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the previous chapter, the Ruxburg pack was wiped of the face of the earth for attempting to kidnap Stiles by force, just as Talia had said would happen with any such attempt. Gin, one of the first Hale wolf Stiles met and one he considers a friend was key in the discovery of their plan.  
> Everyone is also wondering how Stiles managed to outrun the alphas that were after him.  
> The Ruxburg pack kids were adopted, and we witnessed the reaction of a teenager shifting to a wolf for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hesitated putting this chapter up because it is an odd duck in the story, mostly looking into the far past and explaining Stiles bizarre abilities.  
> This is NOT the direction this fic is going, it just sort of completes the "Stiles has weird abilities" arc, and I was hoping to post it with a chapter bringing the story back on track, to the "looking for Stiles mate" when we all know who he will end up with, but I felt bad that it had been such a long time since I posted anything, so here it is.

Indeed, it was true for the Stilinski pack. John, already wearing his uniform, left immediately with Scott and Allison whom he was dropping off at the vet’s and at the day camp respectively. Melissa caught a ride to the morning shift with Henri Hale, who was also a nurse at the hospital.

Quite a few people stayed behind, though, those who were lucky enough to have the morning after the full moon off. Gin was one of them, and he was still eating some toast and jam when Stiles approached him. 

“Hey Gin! Mind if I sit with you?”

Gin gestured his welcome with his toast since his mouth was full.

“Still hungry, hey?” said Stiles watching him put a generous layer of butter on yet another toast.

Gin grinned. “I did a lot of running and not a lot of eating for a couple of days there. I’m making up for it and taking advantage of it to break the low carb, low fat diet we are always on...”

“Thank you for what you did. Without you, Derek and I might be dead by now,” said Stiles, honestly.

“That’s not the way I heard it, but you are welcome, either way.” He took a generous bite of his toast with a great big smile on his face.

“So, you’re the go-to guy for “Speed and stealth”, eh? That’s pretty cool.”

“It felt good to put my training to good use, I must admit. I train with a few others who would have done just as well as I did. I was glad I got picked.” Gin shrugged. “I know it will sound weird, but sometimes, we lose sight of why we spend so much time training. It is nice to have this kind of a reality check. Believe me, I’ll be a lot more motivated for a while. We all will be, I think, after such a close call.”

Peter came in and walked to their table. “Hello Gin, Stiles. Gin, you did some good work these past few days. Your contribution saved a lot of lives. Thank you.”

Gin smiled. “It was an honor to serve the pack. I’m glad I was of help.”

Peter nodded, apparently understanding exactly how Gin felt. “Hey Stiles,” he said, smiling at him affectionately. “I’d like to show you a couple of things. Do you have some time right now?”

“I do. Let’s go. See you, Gin!”

Again Gin waved him off with his toast, his mouth full again.

Stiles and Peter made their way to the library. “Derek and Talia thought you might know how I managed outrun some alpha wolves. Is this what this is about?”

“Yes, it is.”

Stiles grinned at his friend. “Cool.”

Once they were behind closed doors, Peter said, “Why don’t you get “your” book, Stiles? I’m starting to think there was a reason it was your favorite when you were a child.”

Stiles went to the reading alcove where he had left the book and sat on the chair Peter had set up next to his own at his desk. It reminded Stiles of when as toddler named Rumi, he had used to climb on Peter’s lap while Peter studied some old tome from the library, always sure of his welcome on the older man’s lap, and he felt a surge of deep affection for his oldest friend. He placed the book on the table. It was ancient and leather bound and its title was “Myyttejä kynnyksellä susien”, whatever that meant.

Peter looked at him and asked, “You know there are legends that, once upon a time, long ago, ours was a world of Humans, and that there were no werewolves, right?"

“I’d heard that before, I think, and Derek mentioned it the first time he took me to see the Nemeton.”

“Well, as a student of myths and legends and as the keeper of the Hale pack history and lore, I can say that I, for one, believe that to be true true. Your favorite book is filled with ancient folk tales dating to a time when Humans, similar but not completely alike the humans of today, ruled the land.

"They were weaker than werewolves are, but among them were a few very special people, who were able to work with the magic of the Earth. They could draw the power from the land itself, and with it accomplished many wondrous things. They were called Druids.”

He opened the book little Rumi had been fascinated with to one of the first stories, in a language Stiles could not decipher, but with a beautiful illuminated image that showed men and women dressed in white, standing in a circle, holding hands. The tome was obviously ancient and very precious. Stiles was amazed he had been allowed access to it as a toddler. 

Peter looked at the hand written page. “It says here that these first these Druids exerted their power for the greater good, as healers, as midwives, and used their connection to the land to bring about better harvests, stronger livestock and so on.” 

He turned the pages to another story. “But it seemed that then, just as now, power could corrupt those who yielded it, and the Druids came to feel superior to those humans who did not have magic. The Druids separated themselves from the rest, intermarried to concentrate and improve their gifts and grew fewer but more and more powerful, becoming more and more arrogant and ruling the rest with an iron fist.” 

The next illustration showed a woman holding a newborn tightly against her breast, prostrated at the feet of an old man wearing white, who regarded her with disdain. “They tested and apparently murdered children born with magical gifts outside of their guild, and demanded riches for their services.

“There came a time when the humans rebelled and freed themselves from the yoke of their magical leaders, destroying the Druid cast.” 

The next illustration showed humans toppling a circle of stones as a dozen of white clad corpses lay upon the red stained grass. 

“From then on," Peter continued, "magic was regarded by humans with suspicion, and then, as time passed, superstition grew. People came to associate any magical power with evil.

“Those blessed with magic hid it from others, and if found out, were cast away into the woods to die.”

Peter smiles. “And this brings us to the legend of how werewolves came to be.” 

He got up and retrieved another book from the shelves. It was a beautiful and quite old version of the tale of “Sienna the Fair and the Magical Wolf”, one all children knew well. “This fairy tale we all love when we are kids is based on that very old legend, which I believe is based on actual facts.” 

He turned the pages of Rumi’s favorite book to a story titled “Kaunis Sienna jaensimmäinen ihmissusi”. This is a retelling of the legend. The first illustration was that of a very pregnant woman being chased into the woods by humans throwing stones at her.

“What language is this book in?” asked Stiles.

“An archaic northern dialect, to which our language is only vaguely related. I studied folklore as a minor at university, and had to learn to read it, an uphill battle, believe me. In this story, a young woman was born with very powerful magic, and her parents, both magical themselves, succeeded in hiding her talents and taught her from books that had been hidden by their family for generations. "She married for love, and as she got close to giving birth to her own child, worried that the child would also be gifted. Trusting her husband’s love, she confessed her abilities to him. Sadly, he did not take the news well, his superstition and fear of magic stronger than his affection. He denounced her to the other villagers. Like all magical humans, she was banished to the woods to be eaten by wild beasts.

Heartbroken and afraid, she gave birth alone, but she was resourceful and managed to survive with her child, a girl she named Sienna, scraping a small life for herself and her daughter deep in the forest, far from any human settlements. Sienna was only a small child when came a terribly cold winter. The land was covered in snow and the ground and the rivers were frozen for months. "The mother's food reserves dwindled, and she and Sienna survived on the few rabbits and squirrels she managed to trap, then by eating their leather garments cut up in small bits and chewed on for hours and the tallow candles that had given them light. Finally, the mother starved herself, feeding her child as best she could with what she found, moss and ferns, grubs and boiled bark, going without as much as she could, although she became weaker and weaker, even, apparently, cutting into her own flesh and giving the child some of her own blood for sustenance until spring finally came.”

He turned the page. In the next illustration, the mother, holding hands with a young child, looked like an old withered crone.

“She never recovered her youthful energy, but taught the young girl, Sienna, to set traps, to harvest wild carrots and onions, to dry berries. Ashamed and fearful of her own magic, she had never used it herself, but knowing that her death was near, that her child would have to survive on her own, she taught Sienna the runes of power she had learned from her parents and their books as a child. She taught her how to find her magic, and how draw power from the earth. "She died at the summer solstice and with her last breath, coalesced all her long unused magic into three wishes, which she bestowed secretly upon her child.

“Sienna had no reason to fear her magical powers. Although she was only a child, she was at one with the world around her, and grew wild and strong, and as beautiful as the dawn. But she was lonely. When she was a bit older, she wished for a friend, a companion to share her life with. Her mother’s power granted her that first wish, and she found a wolf pup that day, and she named him Hale.

“For five years, the world was perfect. Hale and Sienna became inseparable, hunting together, eating together, nesting together in the furs that made up Sienna’s bed in the hut her mother had built. But when Sienna grew older, she needed more than just a playmate, and she dearly wished her wolf friend could speak to her. Her mother’s magic granted her that second wish, and from then on, the wolf was as clever as she, and as talkative as well. 

“For a while, the world again was perfect. They told each other stories, shared their thoughts, their dreams, joked with one another and pondered the world’s mysteries. The wolf told Sienna how much he loved being a wolf, running in the forest, feeling the earth under his paws, the wind on his face, and Sienna told him how much she loved shaping the river clay with her hands, using the magic of the earth, and whittling pieces of woods into interesting shapes.

“When Sienna became a young woman, however, her friendship with the wolf became more complex, turning into a deep love, and she yearned for more than the warm physical closeness she shared with the wolf. Not fully understanding why, she longed for her four legged friend to be human, like her, all the time feeling guilty because she knew he loved being a wolf. She could not explained to herself why, in her dreams, Hale had smooth skin, long limbs and gentle hands. She took to walking alone in the night while her beloved Hale slept, trying to rule her rebel heart.

“One night, when the moon was new, it was very dark, and although she knew the woods like the back of her hand, because she was distracted and irresolute, she tripped on a root and fell, her palm and knee bleeding. That was the last straw. She did not get back up, but started crying, her ambivalent feelings pouring out, her tears and blood sinking deep into the ground. 

"Her aching heart wished for Hale to be a man, yet, because she loved him so, she could not forgive herself for wanting him to be anything but the wolf he loved to be. Somehow, at the same time, she wished for the moon to be full so she could see her way back to him, childishly holding its absence responsible for her unhappiness, blaming the darkness for her wild desires and her broken heart. "The last of her mother’s powerful magic did its best to answer her dichotomous desires, as did her own magic, drawing power aroused in the earth by both her tears and her blood. Once her tears finally dried, drained of her sorrow and anguish, she rose wearily and returned to their hut to curl up with her beloved wolf, not knowing the wondrous and life altering changes that were set in motion as her third and last wish was granted.

“She woke up in the arms of a man with her wolf’s eyes, voice and grin. Hale’s heart had been full of love for her too, had recognized his lifemate in her, but had been unable to do more than hope to be forever by her side. As a man he was able to express that love in other ways and he and she bonded, as only true mates can.

“Magic had granted Hale the power to shift and be a man, but this power was forever bound to the cycle of moon. When the full moon returned, unable to resist, he turned back into his wolf self. But when the moon waned, he could shift back into a man again, and soon realized he could learn to control the shift and be a man or a wolf according to the wishes of his heart.

“Hale and Sienna had many pups, most of whom could change from humans to wolves like their father, and two who were deeply magical humans like their mother. Wanting to be around people for the sake of their children, they moved close to a village, hiding all of their abilities from others, and as their children grew up and found mates of their own, they revealed the truth to those entering the family. "When the pull of the full moon was at its peak, Hale's wolf nature required him to express his dominance over the new members of his pack. As wolves do, the humans had to express their submission by offering their neck to his bite, and they soon realized that Hale's bite gave them the power to shift to wolves in turn. "The werewolves, being themselves the fruit of magic, had no magic of their own, no way to draw from the earth's power. They inherited the desire of their animal brethren to live in hierarchical packs, while the moon’s magic continued to have power over their lives. 

“The Humans, caught in prejudices and superstitions, isolated themselves, and became weaker and weaker, still rejecting their magical offspring and therefor losing their connection to the land. "Hale and Sienna’s many descendants, on the other hand, became more and more numerous and over time, split into many packs. Due to the first wolves having had to mate with Humans, their werewolves abilities varied.

“One pack, however, could trace its roots back through the matrilineal line directly to Hale and Sienna. Its leader was called the Hale, and the whole pack retained the power to shift to actual wolves. Only the Hale, the Alpha of the Hale pack, could turn Humans into wolves. Eventually, even the Hale lost that power, and his or her bite became lethal to humans, although it did bestow upon werewolves from other pack the power to fully shift. "The original Human population turned upon itself, still hating magic, the only force that might have saved it from extinction. Humans still rejected any of their own found capable of magic, although those born bearing the old power of the Druids had become fewer and fewer. 

“It was not rare for the rejected magical Humans to become part of a pack, even though they could not be turned to wolves. They tied their packs to the magical power of the earth. They were called emissaries and often would bound their magical power to a physical object on their pack's territory, which after their death would retain their magic and be a positive force for their pack. The Nemeton, the magical heart of the Hale pack's territory, was planted centuries ago by a human of great magical power, the very first Hale pack’s emissary, along with her Human son's afterbirth. She placed it at the joining of several ley lines, the conduits along which the earth’s magic flows. It holds the magic of all the emissaries that came after, and ties our pack to the land.” 

"The original Humans eventually discovered the secrets of the werewolves, and saw them as the embodiment of magic's evil. They attacked the packs relentlessly, blind to the foolishness of warring with the more powerful wolves. They fought the wolves to their own doom, to their own virtual extinction. Along with the true Humans also disappeared the last possible heirs to the ancient magical power of the Druids and their ability to connect and use the earth's magic. So, once the true Humans were gone, so were the emissaries."

“There are no true Humans left anymore. We are all werewolves now, although our abilities vary. Some pups are born almost as powerful as the original Hale and some are born with only the smallest amount of moon magic. These "new" humans, like your friend Lydia or Mrs McCall, only show traces of the wolf and are even able to access some small amount of earth magic, allowing them, for example, to lay and break mountain ash circles.

“Some of the first "new" humans felt estranged from their wolves brethren and chose to mate with the very last of the true Humans. They were at the origin of the Hunting families.”

Peter smiled at Stiles. “I believe that you, my friend, are a genetic throw back to some of the magical Humans, like Sienna. I think you are able to channel both the moon’s and the earth’s power, but only together. The brilliant line you followed and drew strength from as you ran was one of the paths of flow of the earth’s magic, a ley line. You are the closest thing to an emissary that has been seen since the true original Humans disappeared, but you only were able to perceived and use the earth's magic while under the power of the full moon. You sorted as an omega, the most magical of all werewolf sortings. Perhaps it is why, despite being all human, you are able to absorb and use its power, like a wolf, but only when it is at its strongest. ” He chuckled. “You are a Blessing to whole Wolfdom, Stiles.”

Stiles snorted at that but then said, “If I hadn't felt the power surge I get from the full moon’s light, and seen the flow of the earth’s magic with my own eyes, I would say you are making it up, but I can’t. I took off my shoes, and dug my toes in the earth, and I could feel its power like a heartbeat, I knew I could draw upon it. I have seen a web of magic around the Nemeton, crossing time and space, and seen my own place in it, like a shining drop of dew. I thought I had fallen asleep, but it was more than that. I have woken up from dreams I cannot remember feeling at peace with the world, feeling connected to the land. Do you think it’s why I heard Derek’s howl like a warning, before it even came?”

Peter bit his lip and, as usual, looked as if he was hiding some secret knowledge. “I have a whole other theory about that, but it is too early for me to come to any conclusion. I’d rather keep it to myself than misinterpret it.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Fine. Be that way. Just let me know when you figure it out, OK? Because it’s freaking me out.”

Peter chuckled. “Well, if I’m right, it is nothing to be freak out about, if that can help.”

Stiles shook his head at him. “Oh, yeah. I feel sooo much better now.”

“There are books in this library about emissaries, about what they could do, about runes and chants they used to focus their powers, if you are interested,” said Peter. “I don’t know if they would be of any use to you, if you can harness the wild magic you seem to be able to access only at the full moon, but they are there if you ever wanted to pursue this.”

Stiles shook his head. “I think for now, being an omega is as much weirdness as I can handle. Maybe once I find a mate, I can take the time to read more about emissaries and explore how much access I have to magic, but for now, I just want the search to be over,” admitted Stiles. “Don’t get me wrong, my pack and yours have been great, helping me live as normal a life as I could, and I would not trade the friendship I have formed with Derek because of this for anything, not even the chance to have been sorted a beta and never have had to put up with all this madness. But the sooner I am mated, the sooner I am free, the better.”

“You certainly will not see as much of Derek as you do now, once you are mated,” Peter pointed out, watching him closely.

Stiles tried not to let the true pain he felt at that thought show under the Left Hand’s scrutiny, and answered honestly, “Neither will Derek’s life be in danger every time we step out of the Hale territory. He was shot at, Peter, with wolfsbane. Had he not worn a vest, he would be dead. It’s got to stop. We can only be lucky so many times.”

Peter nodded, closing the books on his desk and stacking them neatly. “I know this has you worried, and for good reasons. But Talia has made good on her threat: The pack that attacked you has been erased from existence, with no loss of life on our side, and the particulars will not be shared with the public, so the Hale pack appears stronger than ever, almost omnipotent. As for Derek… Yes, the body armor saved him. Does that mean that his training as a Left Hand was not enough to keep him alive?” Peter looked at Stiles with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Or did he wear the vest _because_ , trained as a left hand, he knows how to stay alive against all odds?”

“Oh.” Stiles had not thought of it that way.

“Do not rush the process of finding your mate in an effort to protect him, Stiles.” Peter’s smile had Stiles remembering, for the first time in a while, his first encounter with him, the way he had killed the alpha in the woods, with no mercy and no remorse. “Derek knows how to protect himself.” He looked up at Stiles. “He did not howl his despair because he was in danger. He howled because your actions prevented him from protecting _you_.” 

Peter put his hand on Stiles shoulder. “Do not _ever_ put your own life in danger to save his again. He is harder to kill than you know, and were _you_ to lose your life,” Peter shook Stiles gently, his piercing blue eyes full of intent, “it would be more fatal to him than any wolfsbane bullet to the heart.”

Before Stiles had a chance to think it through, Pip rushed in the room and jumped on his dad. “I’m finished with my run and work out! I get you all to myself for the rest of the day Dad! You promised!”

Peter hugged his son tight. “I did, because there is no one in the world I’d rather be with and you don’t get to skive out of combat training very often. How about we go get ice cream and decide what to do with our time while sharing a banana split?”

“With sprinkles.”

“Duh. Sprinkles _and_ gummy bears.”

“Bye, Stiles,” said Pip, immediately turning his attention back to his dad as they walked hand in hand out of the library. “Strawberry, chocolate and vanilla?”

Left alone in the library, Stiles went and sat down in the alcove he had favored as a child. Even taken by surprise, Derek had been ready for an attack. Had Stiles not ran, what would have happened? He’d had no doubt Derek was in mortal danger. He still could not see how Derek might have manage to reverse the situation, but then, he now realized that _he_ had not been trained as a Left Hand. 

Derek had not been angry at his Alpha on his own behalf. She had been the one admitting to have been afraid for him. Derek had reassured her that he was all right, but now that Stiles thought about it, the danger Derek had been in was not the reason he had forgotten himself and almost challenged his Alpha. He had been angry she had put Stiles in danger.

Again, he wondered what would have happened had he not run out of the circle of ash. He did not regret his actions, just wondered how much he had underestimated his bodyguard, and if perhaps he had, inadvertently, actually insulted Derek, not trusting him to handle the situation. 

Where was Derek now? What was he doing with his time away from his charge? Was he working with his father again? Knowing they would be on the road together soon enough just didn’t seem like enough. Stiles really wanted to see Derek now. He sighed, and reminded himself of Erica’s theory. His mate was probably a lot like Derek, and just like he felt a connection to just about all the alphas he met, he felt one with Derek, probably more intense because he was with Derek more often and because they had faced a lot of crisis together.

Feeling restless, he got up and left the library, heading outside, naturally going toward the Nemeton. Realizing where he was headed, he changed paths. He had come out to try to relax, to air out both his body and his brain, not to dwell on the weird turns his life had taken lately. 

He concentrated on the moment, on the sounds of the forest, on the dappled light around him, on the rich scent of humus and vegetation, on the feel of the slight wind on his skin, and the roughness of the bark of a large Jeffrey Pine. He sat down, leaning his back against a big grey rock, breaking up a twig fallen from the pine, enjoying the lemony-vanilla scent of the crushed bark. Closing his eyes, he could differentiate the call of a Western Tanager, the rat-tat-tat of a woodpecker looking for its next meal, the warbling of a Mountain Blue Bird.

He wasn’t even surprised when he reopened his eyes to find a very large black wolf sitting on its haunches, only a few feet away from him, observing him. His smile was the natural expression of the quiet joy he felt at the sight of Derek, and clear as a bell, unrestrained and honest came the thought, “I love him.” There was no denying the truth of it. He loved Derek, was in love with him. 

However wrong it was, however impossible and ill advised, trying to make believe it wasn’t Derek he was destined to love but someone very much like him was utter nonsense. That his feeling for the wolf could not be true love because an omega is never wrong and Derek, as a cleaved alpha, could not be his mate was irrelevant. He loved Derek, body and soul.

The wolf turned in a tight circle three times, before lying down, his head on his paws, in a spot of sunlight, apparently happy to nap until Stiles was ready to move.

What was Stiles to do now? He’d found his true love, and his true love could never love him back. He was a screw-up at being an omega, falling not only for the wrong person, but a person who was taboo. He thought of all the alphas he had met. Some had liked him just the way he was. Maybe he could find someone he could see spending his life with, someone who like him enough that he would still be mostly himself, after they mated. And his impossible feelings for the cleaved alpha would disappear, as he became someone else’s mate.

He sighed. What other choice did he have?


End file.
